Journal Entries
by Kasey Clark
Summary: Sam goes snooping through Dean's bag, and finds something unlikely. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

"Sam, I swear, if you so much touch my backpack, I'll kill you," Dean yelled from the bathroom. We were in another random motel on the outskirts of town that Dean had stupidly chosen. This time the walls were a pea soup green and the two double beds had matching bed sheets. I had gotten bored quickly from the disgusting room and had begunt o rummage through my older brother's bag, in hopes of something halfway intersting.

Moments later Dean emerged, swaying a bit. He looked at me, then at his bag. I knew he was pissed. I just had no idea what had set him off this time. Our last trip had ended not as well as hoped, with the victim's body never found and us getting some very nasty bruises from the creature. But it was no reson for him to have such a bad attitude.

After a couple hours, and several bad reality shows, later Dean got up from his place on the bed he was lying on. He had fallen asleep for almost an entire hour. More than I had gotten in awhile.

"I'm sick of this. You want a bite to eat? I'm going out," Dean said to me, picking up his phone and wallet of the beside stand and walking to the door, his foots making echoing sounds in the small hellhole.

I thought about it. "Nah, I'm good. Just gonna try and recooperate before we head out again."

Without saying another word he left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

And his backpack.

"No. You can't...it's wrong. He wouldn't do that to me. oh like hell he wouldn't!" I said to myself. My courisoty was getting the best of me and I was giving in. I remembered back to when I was in high school. Dean had promised not to go through my drawers, but sure enough, I came home from school and found him rummaging through my sock drawer, finding every love letter i'd recieved from a girl.

"Just think of this as payback," I smirked.

The bag was packed full of crap. There was no way of telling immediatly what Dean was trying to hide from me. But I was sure I would find it soon. The first item was Dad's journal. Obvious place for it. Underneath it were some personal stuff, cologne, toothbrush, a bottle of expensive salon shampoo. Even car wax.

By then my nerves were coming back and I was terrified my older bro would walk back in the door any second. Right as I was shoving the crap back into the bag, something small and made of black leather fell out. It was no larger than a DVD case, but looked well worn.

My fingers flipped the cover open while my eyes darted to the door, just to make sure. Written, in cursive, was Dean Winchester.

I was taken aback. Was this what I thought it was? Dean's journal? The guy could barely come up with a sentimental sentence, let alone write entire pages of his deepest emotions.

But sure enough, there it was, the second page. A date and a couple paragraphs in Dean's handwriting. From the date it looked as if it was written when he was in high school.

_September 6, 1995_

_Today was the first day of school. And, as usual, nobody said crap to me. they all looked at me and whispered to their friends, "Isn't that the freak who believes in ghosts? His Dad's a real cook."_

_I hate this place so much. The other day I asked Dad when I'd finally be able to get out of that hellhole and join him full time. He said he'd let me sooner, but he wants to stay here, because little Sammy wants an education. _

_What an idiot! Why does he want all the booksmarts he can get. Everything he needs to know, Dad can teach him. I guess he just doesn't realize how horrible my life is. It wouldn't be so bad if HE wasn't in the picture._

_Hopefully this year will go by fast. Hell, maybe I can even get a girl to look past my freak family. And my "adorable" little brother and see me. Right, like that'll ever happen. The chess captain gets more action than I do. Wishful thinking I suppose._

My eyes burned from what I had just read. I had no idea that my life had made his teenage years so difficult. He had always told me he was a lady's man. That the girls used to swoon over him in the hallways. Why did he lie to me like that? And better yet, what else had he lied to me about?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to all who left me a comment. This is one of my first fanfics (I'm just a newbie) and ur reviews encouraged me to update sooner than planned. **

**This chapter I decided to write from Dean's POV. **

**This is gonna be a short chapter; just a forwarning.**

The car was dead silent. I han't even bothered to put a cassette in. It would have given Sam a chance to speak to me, and I was all for avoiding that. Ever since the previous night, Sam had given me the cold shoulder. I knew he was short on sleep, but he could have been alittle more congenial.

"Hey, Sammy...Sam! SAM!" I repeated myself several times. My brother was sitting not two feet to my right, yet he ignored my every word. By that point I was pissed. When I had gotten back to the motel, Sam was outside, sprawled out on a cheap plastic chair. I asked him why the long face, and he just stared straight ahead, at the deserted road and rotten trees.

This morning was no better. Sam took half an hour to wash his precious brown locks, leaving not one drop of hot water and used all the towels. I could tell by then I'd pissed him off, but had no clue why.

"Listen, Dean, why don't we just not talk for awhile? We have huindreds of miles ahead of us, so we'll have plenty of time to chit chat," Sam snapped at me. His hands had clenched his right thigh and I thought I saw a vein stick out of his forehead.

If I had been in the mood to argue, I might've continued to push his buttons, but I was short on sleep. Ever since the aslyum incident, I could barely sleep more than a few hours at a time.

The aslyum incident. Maybe that was why Sam was acting to hostile. He already admitted that he knew what he had said to me. And the bruises in the center of my chest from a shot of rock salt spoke for itself. No matter what little Sammy told me, it was all bull. Every word he said was true.

And how could I forget the pistol. As much as I loved my brother, and forgave him for a lot of crap, but trying to shoot me with MY pistol, was too much. If I hadn't taken the bullets out of that gun, Sam would have killed me.

Of course, he'd be the one to have to live with that on his conscience for the rest of his life. And at that moment, I didn't really care. He wanted to be a bitch, I could be one right back.

"You know, Sammy, I don't really don't give a damn waht your problem is, I just wish you'd snap out of it!" I yelled at him. My hands were holding the steering wheel to my precious Chevy so tight they were cutting off the circulation.

I expected to hear Sam make a snide remark back. Something about me being an ass and how I need to stay out of his business. Instead I heard something odd. He turned to face me, letting his eyes burn into me. I hated the way he did that

"Dean, whatever happened to that old girlfriend of yours? Uh, Brittney I think it was. You dated her for about a month and a half. Said you had something real good going with her."

I wanted to slam on the brakes. Why in God's name did he care about Brittney? Or even remember her?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all who left a review. I wasn't sure for awhile where I wanted to go with this, but your comments gave me an idea. Hope you enjoy!**

I could now safely call myself an idiot. Brittney? Why the hell did I bring up Brittney?

The logical answer was that, by that point, I couldn't hold my anger any longer. But still, that did not bring any more reason to me.

It was feezing in the room. We were currently in another motel room. It was way past midnight, yet from sounds of the room next door, the night was just beginning. A woman's voice floated through the door. Then a man's. It sounded as if the woman was doing her best to get the man to go home with her. Soft laughter echoed around every couple of minutes. I was just waiting for someone to start music. I had no idea how Dean could sleep through all the rucas.

My mind drifted to the night before. When I had read that first journal entry, had thrown the book back into Dean's bag, and then proceeded to kick my duffel bag continiuosly, I realized how bad those words had affected me.

Dean came back shortly later and acted his usual self. I don't think he even realized I was pissed at him for at least an hour. Then again, Dean had his own world, and visited it quit often.

That had been a long night. Instead of sleeping I took a walk. There was a patch of woods behind the motel. Although I knew the kinds of things that lurked there, I needed the break. Being in a car, day after day, with the same person could really affect your mind.

The woods brought me a sense of calm. Not because I was caring a loaded gun and table salt, but because I was able to get my thoughts in order. For most of my life, Dad had picked on me. He expected me to fail, he knew I'd always come up short. But Dean. Oh no. Dean could screw an entire trip up and almost kill all of us in the process, and yet, Dad was ready to make him better. So why did Dean feel the need to write a journal about how deprived he was. Alright, he lied about the girls. They really didn't pay attention to him. That didn't make his life a living hell.

Those thoughts stayed with me the next morning throughout the carride. Sometime around noon, when I'd had enough of Dean's sorry attempts to make a conversation with me, I asked about Brittney. Why, I still had no idea. I suppose I just wanted to see how'd he react.

And boy, did I get a reaction. His head swiveled to face mine, not seeing the road, almost killing us in the prcess, his green eyes becoming large, mouth agape.

When he asked me about it, I shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I was just reading some of Jess's old text messages last night and saw one about her and a friend, Brittney, hanging out. Reminded me of your Brittney." I thought it was a pretty good lie, having to be created in just seconds. I just hoped the shake in my voice didn't give me away.

If Dean had noticed the shake he failed to mention it. Instead he sighed, faced the road again and let out a small laugh. I knew he wanted to make a smart comment back, but I wasn't in the mood to hear what it was. I'd gotten the satisfaction I'd wanted. To see him cringe. To make him believe for a few moments that his big secret was uncovered. Then see his face when I reassured him I knew nothing about it his beloved journal.

I turned my gaze to the bed next to me. There he was, sleeping peacefully. I imagined to what his chest looked like under his shirt, where the rock salt scars were still prominent. A sick part of me was content that I had kicked his ass at something.

I couldn't stand the stiff bed or the distant noises any longer, I threw my legs over the side and stepped out. While debating my options of what to do in the middle of the night in a foreign place, my eyes drifted to Dean's bag, lying at the end of his bed.

The bag. With the infamous journal in it. Although I was disgusted by what was written, I also wanted to read some more. To know what else was hidden in those words.

I heard a voice in my head saying, "Read it! Read it!" My legs agreed with the voice and started walking towards the bag.

Another voice was chanting, "Dean will kick your ass if he wakes up. He will tear you to pieces."

Unfortunatly, my body wasn't listening to the second voice. It wanted to know too bad. It hadn't gotten a nibble of what it held the previous night, now it wanted another bite.

The journal was difficult to find in the dark. Several times I dropped things, one being the picture of the bear we had seen at the building while hunting the Windigo. I didn't even want to think about why that was in there. Thankfully the floor was carpeted.

My hands found the object of interest. With the utmost care I picked it up and walked to the only place I could turn on a light. The bathroom.

Taking a seat on the toilet I opened the stupid book to the second page.

_October 24, 1995_

_Wow, my luck might've finally changed. Shocker, isn't it. See, there's this total hottie in my, uh, my math class i think. I can't remember which class it is. Not that I pay attention. Anyways,supposdly, she actually realizes how good looking I am and wants to go out with me. _

_Not that she told me that. Not many people talk to me. And if they do it usually involvs the words, "crazy, bitch, and loser." You can piece together what it means. But yeah, this really huge guy, bigger than me, uh, Troy I think his name is, think hes even on our gay football team,keeps talking about Danielle (the chick) turning him down. I even heard him tell him bud that she has the hots for, "that freak dude. You know the one who is always reading those paranormal books." _

_Which, of course, would be me. There's going to be this huge Halloween festival at school, a fundraiser for some dumb ass club, but there'll be games and supposdly everyone going._

_Now, usually that'd be night to help dad out. seeings that any creatures love causing hell on Halloween. and lets face it, when do I ever support the school. I hate it!_

_But I'd do anything to get closer to Danielle. Hell, I'd do anything to get close to any girl right now! I'm not picky!_

I closed the book. This explained something I had remembered from way back. I wanted to cry when I thought about it.

It was Halloween night. I hadn't gone anywhere. I'd spent most of the night at home, talking to friends over the phone. Dad was on a hunting trip, pissed to no end that I didn't come along, but I wanted to stay home and pass out candy to the trick or treaters. Something all my friends complained about every year, but I had failed to do.

Dean had told me he was going to that Halloween party thing. I figured since he was so "charming" one of his ladyfriends probably wanted him there. It was the only time I'd seen my older brother turn down a hunting trip. Now I wished he hadn't. Even I could tell from the entry they were planning something. Dean could shoot a pistol at some out of the ordinary creature seventy five feet away and could do some harm to the bastard, but he couldn't see a group of teenagers up to no good.

Almost regretfully I returned to my reading.

_October 31,_

_Those stupid assholes! I hate them! I hate them all! Every last one of them! I hope they all rot in hell. And if I have anything to do with it, I'll be the one to send them there!_

_They thought they were so funny. Troy and Danielle and their friends, April, Chrissy, and Tony. thought it would be hilarious to play a trick on me. Intentionally say stuff about Danielle when I was around. Convince me to go to the dumb party. Then get Danielle to flirt with me for awhile. Make me get to feeling really great about myself. Almost great enough to ask her out, then go around acting like some spirit or whatever. Making everyone there laugh and point fingers at me._

_Then her, Danielle, running into Troy's arms, saying, "What a freak! He actually thought I was interested...in HIM. ha ha ha! Maybe if you and your daddy stopped pretending there were such things as ghosts!" She continued to get in a good laugh at me for about five minutes._

_I just wish I didn't have to go. To school. To that place of misery. Its worse than any creature I've had to deal with. Sometimes I wish Mom was here. She'd make us normal. She'd tell me how to win the girls over. I miss her now more than ever. I wonder if she sees me, crying myslef to sleep. Crying for her._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: To answer some people's question...yes, I am showing Dean's soft side. Most people stress Sam's issues. I love angst stories from both their perspectives, just decided to write it from Dean's this time. And yes, high school is horrible.**

I sat staring at Dean's sleeping body.His poor chest, moving slowly up and down. I felt like shit. Just a few hours ago I had thought many horrible names to call my brother. I believed him to be the scum of the Earth. When really, if I'd thought about it, he was protecting me.

All those years he lied to me to make sure I didn't worry. He wanted me to think he was happy. That he had at least one part of his life he truly enjoyed.

And the sad thing was, I believed him. I was so wrapped up in my own life, of getting away from him and my father I hadn't even thought about having a true talk with him about his life. I guess I was just content that he took me under his wing and helped me. I was so ungrateful.

I felt something hot roll down the right side of my cheek. Then another. Slowly they fell, one by one. I couldn't stop the silent tears from flowing. Growing up, whenever I heard something sounding like a sob coming from the room next to mine, I'd pretend I didn't hear it and try to go back to sleep.

But that was when we were younger. As we grew up, Dean took a room farther away from mine, and I had assumed he'd grown out of the crying phase. I never would have guessed that he cried himself to sleep, just as I had. I tried to picture Dean doing just that. Lying curled up in his comfortable bed, hugging himself, holding his old pillow, sobbing silently. And trying to make sure no one heard him. He hated for anyone to see him weak.

I couldn't bear to think about it any longer. All that mattered now was how many times Dean had woken himself up, gotten out of bed, and comforted me when he heard my cries. But never once did I bother to take the time to see if he needed my help.

Suddenly, the sleeping figure in front of me stirred. I ran my fingers over my eyes quickly. The last thing I wanted was for Dean to see me crying. Running to the bathroom, in hopes of splashing some water on my face, I heard the older man throw off the sheets and stand up, groaning.

"Sammy, what the hell are you doing?" Dean asked groggily. I noticed him rubbing his chest, wincing.

I turned around. My eyes watched his every move. He reached over the bed and opened his backpack. My breath stopped. Running through my head were all the mistakes I could have made. I forgot where, exactly, I had put the bear picture. And Dean might notice the still fresh tear stains on the journal that I couldn't help myslef from shedding.

But Dean noticed nothing. He reached into his bag, grabbed the bottle of shampoo, and re-zipped the bag. Walking over, I moved quickly out the way to the bathroom. He raised an eyebrow. "You're acting pretty weird this morning."

"Not much sleep," I answered, head down. I still could not face looking him in the eye.

"You've been acting pretty PMSy lately, what's up?"

Instinct and years of arguments led me to say, "Like you would know anything about how girls act." My eyes widened. I hadn't even realized what I had said. Practice told me to respond the way I had. I noticed with horrible certainty the sharp pain cross Dean's face, even for just a moment.

Quickly he covered it up. "Bet I know more than you, little Sammy. Remember...Britnney."

"Uhuh," I mumbled. I truely was beginning to think I was a peice of shit. I couldn't even think. My mind was spinning. I had to get out of that awful room. Dean would take a good half hour to shower; payback for yesterday, so I could borrow his car and head into down for a few minutes. Just right up the road.

It took about three minutes to pull into the small town. There was a main highway, with the usual; diners, library, a bank, some shops, a gas station. I pulled the Chevy into a parking space in front of a small diner. It was a small, wooden framed building, painted white with large windows. Inside, were about ten tables and a long booth. If you took one of the seats near the end, you could get a glimpse of the kitchen.

I chose a seat in the middle. There were not many other people. Two old men were reading the newspaper at a table in the corner. One, rather plump, was scarving down his pancakes. He oddly reminded me of Dean.

Chuckling, I turned back around to see a young waitress standing on the other side, a spiral notebook in one hand, a pencil in the other. She didn't look old enough to be working.

"Uh, hi. Can I just get a cup of coffee and a muffin, please."

The waitress wrote it down and told me it'd be right out. And she stayed true to her word. Not a minute later, she came walking towards me, her brown curls bouncing as she walked. "Here ya go, sug. anything else I can get for you?" Her southern accent was pleasent. She seemed like a cheerful girl.

As I was gulping down the hot coffee, cherishing it, I noticed the waitress staring at me. I lifted my eyes.

She smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. "I'm Anna. Are you new in town?"

"Hi, Anna. Yeah, my brother and I are passing through. Might stay a few days."

"You must have heard about the Carmell murder," Anna answered. She had taken a stool and sat down across from me.

"No, I haven't. What happened?"

The girl was excited to tell me. "Wow, I figured by now it would have spread over the county. But I'm not complaining, it's hard to find someone who hasn't heard the story a million times already."

I waited patiently. Finally she realized she had forgotten to inform me of the story and quickly jumped in.

"It happened about a week and a half ago. My highschool was having a spring dance, and just about the whole school showed up.'

I wondered how this was related to a murder, but kept my mouth shut. People in small towns liked to talk. It took awhile to get to get to the point.

"Anways, Michelle and her boyfriend of a year, Tommy, showed up. They looked like they were having a good time. After about an hour everyone sorta headed out. Most go into the woods outside the school. We sorta have a hang out place there."

I knew Anna meant more than just a hang out place. I'd been through high school, places like those have trouble written all over them.

"Well, as some people were walking out there, somebody started screaming at the top of their lungs. Two people ran ahead to see what it was. When they got to the scene they saw Tommy's body lying in some dirt, dead as a doornail. The cororner says someone beat him up pretty bad, then strangled him to death."

Despite the fact that it did not sound paranormal or anything besides a sick, twisted person, I was intrested. "So, this Tommy Carnell guy? They figure out who did it?'

"That's the problem. Nobody knows. All his friends were with people at the time, so it couldn't have been anyone at the dance."

"What about his girlfriend?"

"She was the one who screamed. She had walked away for a few seconds to make a phone call and when she came back Tommy was on the ground."

I scrunched my forehead. That was the best she could come up with, and people still believed her? I had no doubt who it was. I just did not see how no one else couldn't.

"We have her phone bill to prove it wasn't her," Anna interrupted my thoughts. She obviously saw the disbelief on my face. "Besides, Michelle was an angel. She made straight A's, had gotten early admission to some fancy college, volunteered four days a week at the pre-school down the road."

That explained it. I should have guessed. People never believed the perfect angel child could do something so hideous. Just look at Dean.

No, I forced Dean out of my head. Thinking of him would bring back last night.

But...oh God! Dean! I'd been so wrapped up in Anna's story I failed to notice the time. Forty minutes had passed by, at least. Long enough for my brother to realize I'd taken his car without his permission.

As if on que, the door to the diner swung open. Dean's boots made loud thudding noises as he rushed towards me. I pictured what he was seeing. His baby in the parking lot of some random diner. Inside, his younger brother sitting at one of the booths, deep in discussion with a pretty girl. Shit, I was in for it.

"What the hell you think you're doing Samuel!" Dean yelled. The two old men looked up. I was sure one of the men was going to spit his coffee out of his mouth. I cringed. Samuel. Why'd he have to call me by my real name. Sammy was better than Samuel.

I expected him to get in my face, scream at me, lecture me about taking his car. Wouldn't have been surprised if he had grabbed my jacket and pulled me outside. What I didn't expect was his right fist to come towards my jaw.

I stumbled backwards. My left leg hit one of the stools and sent it crashing to the floor. I followed suit, my back making contact with one of fallen stools legs. In the process my arms flung sideways, knocking a napkin dispenser and a pepper shaker over. From somewhere around me I heard Anna let out a soft scream. Dean was standing his ground. I thought for sure he was going to drop on his knees and continue punching me. The look in his eyes, so full of hatred, reassured my thoughts.

**A/N: Sorry about this chapter, wasn't really into it, but i promise Chapter 5 will be awesome!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hope you enjoy!**

My jaw was throbbing. I tasted blood in my mouth. I tried to look up, but my vision was blurred. Slowly realization dawned on me. I remembered where I was. And what had happened.

From above me I heard Dean's voice, not as harsh as the last time I'd heard it. And Anna. She was saying something. My mind wasn't processing fast enough. Jerk. She was calling Dean a jerk. And some other choice words.

"Oh, thank God! You better be glad he's awake!...Sam can you hear me? Sam?" Anna asked, her voice filled with worry. I wondered briefly how she knew my name. Then I remembered Dean yelling it at me. I was beginning to get the strength to lift myself off the floor. It felt as if knives were cutting into my brain and back. I must have hit my head when I landed on the wooden floors.

Hands wrapped around my arms and I was being lifted. It was the old men. They placed me on the stool i'd knocked over, wiping dirt off my jacket. I stared at Dean, unsure of what to think.

"You wanna explain to that boy why you knocked him upside his head?" one of the old men screamed. Dean gave him a sharp look, then turned his gaze to me.

"I guess I was upset when I found out my younger brother had disobeyed my trust! You know, like looking through things that aren't his!" Dean began to move forward. For a split second I was afraid he'd hit me again. Instead, he just shoved his finger in my face and seethed. "You told me you wouldn't look. I trusted you! I trusted you Sam!" Some of Dean's spittle landed on my face. His lips were clenched tight and he was shaking. I wondered for a moment how much his chest was hurting.

Everything was happening so fast. Me finding Dean's journal, learning a side of my brother I hadn't known. Having it all crashing down before I could really sort it out. There wasn't time to figure out how felt towards my brother.

"Get up," Dean ordered, lowering his finger and turning around. Before I could ask where we were going he began to walk away, intentionally knocking over a chair.

"Sorry," I managed to say to the three. They were looking at me as if in horror. I knew word would get around soon that two strangers came to the town, had come in, fought, and left. Dean probably wanted to get away.

As I was walking out the front door, my hand protecting my jaw, I heard Anna call my name. "Sam, I know you have to go, but if you could, just look into the murder, please. Everyone else says its just a hideous crime...but I think there's something else going on. It'd be great to hear someone else agree with me."

My mind thought back. The murder? Oh, the Carnell murder. That conversation had felt like an eternity ago.

Dean was waiting in the car. Growing up we'd had our fights, but neither had outright punched the other one. And it was hard to believe that he did it right where everyone could see.

I hesitated opening the passenger door. I knew I deserved the hit. I read something of his that was personal. He trusted me enough not to and I screwed him over. But still...a punch?

The moment I shut the door Dean hit the gas and turned out of the parking lot. There were several times on the ride back to the motel I thought he was going to kill us. I wasn't sure which was worse, the fight or his driving skills.

After pulling into the parking lot, Dean never got out of the car. He turned the engine off, put the keys in his pocket, and sat there. I followed suit.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it. I just-"

He cut me off before I could finish. "Sam, ever since Dad left you've been the only person I could trust. Hell, all my life you were the only one I could trust! Never once have I looked through your bag. I never read any of Jess's letters you love to look at. You know why? Because, even though we spend every moment together, doesn't mean we each don't have our own lives. I've got my history, you've got yours. If I wanted you to know any of mine I woulda told you."

Instead of answering I continued to sit there, staring at the floorboard. As pissed off as I was about the fact that he'd hit me, I still felt like I deserved it. It wasn't right. I should have been the one to scream and yell at him, but, as usual, Dean made it seem as if I were the idiot.

I heard Dean let out a chuckle and shake his head. "You know, I try to explain things and make you realize why I hit you, and you still act bigheaded."

I looked up. "What?"

"All your life you've acted this way. Thinking you can do anything you want and someone will be there to cover it up for you. That's mostly my part, I always tried to protect you. But I thought when you went off to college you'd learn. Instead you just became worse."

"I know people aren't going to fix my mistakes, Dean. I learned that along time ago." I was beginning to get angry. Dean had a right to yell at me for the journal, but trying to mock me for how I acted was uncalled for.

"You don't get it Sam!" Dean yelled. He was looking me dead in the eye. "This is our life! This! Sleeping in cheap motels, living out of our backpack, constantly lieing to people! And I know you don't like it, you never have! But I didn't force you to come with me. You made that choice yourself!"

"I know I did!" I screamed louder.

"Then stop acting like your better than me! I get it! You went to college, you had a life, whereas I didn't! But for God's sake Sam, you're not there anymore! You have to change. Day in and day out you sit in that seat and pout and complain and make the trip crappy!"

I couldn't take it anymore. Dean was jealous of me. He always had been. The journals proved it. His life sucked and mine didn't. I opened the car door and got out, before slamming it I said, "Yeah, well Dean, I'm sorry you were the loser in school. And I'm sorry the popular kids played tricks on you. But guess what? Bossing me around and trying to make my life hell isn't going to change it. I wanted to be normal! You're the one who chose to follow Dad. Maybe if you'd acted like me alittle more you would have had friends."

I wasn't sure what to do. It had never gotten this bad between the two of before. My head was starting to throb from the yelling and the nasty bruise forming under my lip. Grabbing my backpack and laptop I walked unto the road. There was only one place I could go. Back to Anna's.

From the corner of my eye I saw Dean watch me leave. Following me in his rearview mirror. I hoped what I said hurt as much as his punch did. Briefly I thought back to the aslyum, and the shape shifter case. We had both been holding in anger towards each other for awhile. It was about time we got it all out in the open. I just hoped with Dean stubborness, he got the message.


	6. Chapter 6

The moon was glowing bright that night. The thin curtains did nothing to hide it. I was estatic that Anna had found me a place to stay for the night. I had fallen into the stool I had sat in a few hours ago, sweaty, dirty, and exhausted from walking such a distance. Anna took one look at me, noticed my computer and bag, and shook her head.

"In my seventeen years of life I have never seen someone as messed up as you, Sam," she replied. I saw her reach for a dishtowel.

"Yeah. It's sorta been a long morning." Reluctantly I took the towel and wiped my face off, jumping alittle when I ran it over my chin. That bruise wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

"I'm guessing things got worse between you and that guy?"

I nodded. As much as I didn't want to get into my life issues with someone I'd just met, I needed a place to stay, and this was increasing my chances of getting help.

Anna smiled. "So, did he leave you for dead in this town and take off, or did you just come back to talk to me?" Her hands fiddled with her apron.

"We had...an arguement. I said some pretty harsh things to him." Actually I had completely put him down and ripped his heart out. "I decided to get out for awhile. Give us a chance to think things over."

An older woman in her late fifties walked out of the kitchen. She was a plump lady, with curly gray hair and long fingernails painted red. Her face had a kind feature to it. She looked up from the clipboard in her hands and smiled at me, showing perfect teeth. "Oh, hello!"

"Mom, this is Sam. He was the one I told you about," Anna answered.

"Oh! So your back for a second round, are you?" the woman chuckled.

I had to laugh. She seemed like a sweet enough lady. "No m'am, my brother kicked me out. Decided to get a bite to eat before I go looking for a place to stay."

Anna's mother looked concerned. "You don't have a place to stay?"

As I shook my head once more, Anna began to whisper with her mother. I only caught snatches of their conversation, but it was enough to know my persuasion skills were getting me somewhere. After a few more minutes of debate, the two woman turned to face me.

"Sam," Anna was smiling. "My sister left for college a few years ago so there's an unoccuiped room...if you want it."

I chanced a quick look at her mom. She was flushed, but didn't look upset by the idea. "Um, thanks. Yeah, that'd be great actually. And, don't worry. I'll just be there to sleep and research. Won't be in the way at all."

"Well I hope you are!" the woman exclaimed. "If you're sleeping on my bedsheets then you better be using our shower, and I ain't gonna starve you either, you already look as if you haven't eaten in weeks."

I knew they were going to be good company. "Thank you, really. Any way I can pay back, just say."

"Nonsense! If we invite you to stay, you don't go saying you can repay us back! If I wanted you to pay, I woulda asked you!"

I began to laugh. "You're right, sorry, Mrs. Um..."

"Mrs. Claire Davenport. And you've met my daughter, Anna, of course."

That was several hours ago. After getting my housing situation taken care of, the Davenports introduced me to Mr. Davenport, a bulky man with an unpleasant habit of htting me too hard in the shoulder. I guess he saw my bruised jaw and assumed I was as strong as him. But if he didn't stop soon, I would have a matching one on my arm.

The house was a fairly normal one. Two stories, painted white, just like the diner, a wrap-a-round porch with a swing hanging from one side, even blue shutters on the windows. It would have fit into any suburbon housinh areas.

My room was on the second floor, acroos the hall from the bathroom. My eyes dropped when Anna opened the door to show it off. The walls were painted a bright pink, the wooden floor covered in a pink carpet, and the queen sized bed had a pink comforter on it, with pink pillows. Of course, her sister couldn't have been a tom boy. For a moment I thought of Dean seeing me in the room. He would have teased me unmercifully for it.

"Melanie was a cheerleader. We wanted to change the room, but she asked us not to."

If I wasn't depending on them for food and sanitation, I would have made a sarcastic comment back, but instead I held my tongue and dropped my bag on the floor. Setting my computer on the desk I realized Anna was still watching me, her arms folded, frowning.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to see if you'd still look into, you know, the murder case."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course. Just give me some time, okay?"

That, too, was so long ago. The day continued to crawl by. I spent most of the afternoon studying up on the Carnell case. It seemed like a normal homicide. But I knew from experience that I person's instinct was not something to blow off. With that I searched old newspapers from the town, and the obituaries from years past.

The only thing unusual I found was the story of Lacy Wilson. She was a seventeen year old girl who went to the same high school as Tommy and Michelle about ten years ago. She was in an abusive relationship and the reporters say that she died of continious head blows. Lacy was an A student, prom queen, had her life organized.

Ever since her murder, there was an unusual pattern of young, teenage boys getting killed by a similar cause. Immediatly I grabbed my phone, planning on hitting speed dial. To call Dean. Then I remembered.

I was on my own for this one. Even as I proccesed this my stomach tightned up and began to do sumersaults. On my own. I'd never been on a hunting trip alone. That was all Dean.

Still, I had to inform him about this. He'd need to know I'd be staying for a few days. Clicking his email address I silently prayed he'd go to the library and check his mail.

An hour later I recieved an email back from him. My heart had hoped he was being the bigger man and there was an apology in the letter. That was a farfetched idea.

_Sam,_

_I don't really know what to say to you right now. _

_So, I let my past talk. Anna's bringing you a package, should get there soon. I want you to read a certain part. 12/12. _

_Tell me if you think I'm such a freak after that. _

_As for the ghost hunt. You're on your one. You went to college, you got the smarts to kill that thing, you don't need me, obviously._

_Dean_

"Figures," I mumbled, closing my laptop. When I needed him he wasn't there. But, then again, I wasn't there for him for 4 years. He had to fight bad things while I was escaping them. Guess I was getting a piece of my own medicine.

Just as I was wondering about the package, Anna walked into the room, dressed in a miniskirt and a halter top. My eyebrows raised. She noticed.

"I'm going out with my boyfriend. Is that a bad thing?"

"No. Of course not, I was just surprised, that's all."

"Yeah, most people don't see me out of my work uniform. Guess they believed I was born in a balck top and a matching knee high skirt." Anna smirked. "Here, your bully told me to give this to you. He said you knew what it meant." She threw a package on the pink bed and walked out of the room, closing the door.

The package was covered in a white cloth. One of Dean's. Upon taking the fabric off I finally realized what was inside.

Dean's journal.

That goddamn journal. The thing that started all the problems in the first place.

My legs gave out on me. I thudded onto the bed, sinking a great deal. He wanted me to read his journal? I thought he hated me for doing so? Why'd he want me to do it again?

Was it Dean's way of testing my trust? Maybe he wanted to see if I would do it again, or if I'd just give it back. Dean was weird that way.

But then why would he give me a date to look at? He obviously wanted me to read something about him. Hell, he might be trying to tell me something.

I flipped through the pages, not even daring to glance at the entries. Eventually, about halfway through I got to December.

With bated breath I began to read.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Just had to give my usual thanks to: Mrs. Winchester, SammysAngel, SVOC Luva, Ghostwriter, Nate and Jake, KatieMalfoy19, ashylns, AzNnEqGrOePnOi for all the reviews, it makes me want to update quicker than usual. and sorry Ghostwriter about the Lacy Peterson thing, yes, I realized when you wrote it that that was in the news, but honestly I was dead asleep when I wrote it and that name just popped into my brain. So I decided to change the last name to Wilson. **

Chapter 7

_December 12, 2002_

_Right now my life is spinning out of control. Dad left two nights ago to get rid of a polturgist. He asked me to go with him, and I would have, but I heard Sammy having those nightmares. I know his safety is more important than hunting right now._

_I just wish I knew why he was still having those dreams. At 18 you'd think they'd end. But I don't dare ask him. He would just close up and deny he ever had them in the first place._

_But it's all going to change soon. Sam's getting what he wants. What he deserves. A life. Ever since he was a kid he wanted to have a normal life. Well, even though Dad doesn't want him to be happy, I do._

_Two months ago, when I saw the application for Standford in the mailbox, saw that one of the recommendations had to be from a family relative, I stole it. Sam never knew. When they called for him, asking about the letter, I pretended to be him and told them it wasn't in there._

_They sent another, those goddamn people. I didn't know what to do. Showing it to Dad would have started a big arguement. And I really don't want Dad to know I'm supporting Sam on this._

_So, this afternoon, I mailed the letter. At first I had no clue what the hell to write about. But then it all just came to me. His skills, hows honest he is with people, and his bravery. I know, with that letter, he's getting in for sure. And he's going to have to stand up against Dad, of all people. I just wish I was strong enough to support him openly._

_Maybe one day, when we're really old, and all my good looks have weared off, I'll tell him about it. And about the money. He always asks where my money goes, but I can't possibly tell him that either. That every penny I've earned (well, made) in the past two years has been put in one of those college payment plan things. Because I sure as hell know he can't afford Standford; schlorship or not._

My eyes were burning. I hadn't noticed that the year on the entry date had changed. I didn't realize that this was just four years ago.

But that wasn't the issue. The issue was Dean. I treated him like shit for my entire life, telling him to leave me, to go hunt with Dad.

He not only gave up his...job to take care of me, he helped me get away from him.

My eyes were on fire. The urge to cry was becoming too powerful. Dean, wonderful older brother who had been stepped over all his life, and yet, managed to keep a smile.

Realization dawned on me. I had helped make Dean the freak. He never went out because he was always afraid I'd need him. He never got close to anyone because he was afraid of how they'd take in our family. And me. Hell, he was more of a father to me then Dad ever was. He was the one constantly comforting me in the middle of the night.

And he put my life goals before his. I couldn't help, the tears started flowing.

Dean made sure he followed Dad's every order because he knew I'd be leaving. He tried to protect Dad too, you could say. He knew not to try and start a life because Dad needed one of his with him.

At that moment I felt as if the walls were closing in. My chest tightened, beads of sweat covered my body, I vaguely noticed my t-shirt sticking to my chest.

From somewhere downstairs I heard the television blaring. Mr. Davenport must have gotten home from work. I hoped he couldn't hear my sobs.

That, too, all happened a century ago. I tried to call Dean several times, but he either didn't have it turned on or wasn't answering my calls. I guessed the latter. By eleven I, when I left Dean his fourth voice message, I decided to give up and go to sleep.

Lying that pink bed didn't settle my thoughts, though. It got me thinking to all the memories of me being a teenager, hearing my older brother's reassuring voice when I asked him if everything was alright. He'd always do that squinting thing with his eyes, that bugs the shit outta me, and say, "Course I'm fine. Just doing my job." Unfortunatly, I thought, taking care of me wasn't his job. It was Dad's. I just didn't care enough to notice, until now.

At around three I heard Anna sneak upstairs, trying her best to be quiet. I let out a small groan. In all the madness I had once again forgotten about the murder case. It seemed like an easy job. Lacy, the young teenage girl who got beat to death by her boyfriend, was going around as a spirit killing off guys around that same age.

The only problem was, Dean wasn't going to have my back this time. I'd have to retrace all my steps and make sure the situation stayed under control. Besides, it wasn't anything major, just a ghost. Find the bones, burn them, be done.

Seemed easy enough.

With that in mind I slowly dozed off into a fitful sleep, full of dreams about Dean.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. have had exams that I needed to pass.**

"Hey Dean, it's Sam...again. Listen, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be hunting Lacy Wilson today. So, yeah, call me...please."

Closing my phone I walked around the corner of the porch and made my way back into the Davenport's house. Although it was only seven in the morning, the sun was scorching and the air was thick with heat.

Before I opened the screen door to the kitchen, Anna's yelling filled my ears. "Just stay out of my life!"

A few moments later her mother's voice answered, just as loud. "I will not stay out of your life! I am your mother and those bruises concern me!"

"So Dave grabbed me alittle hard! It's not that big a deal!"

Instantly my mind raced back to all the fights I'd had with my Dad. I, too, had believed that my only parent should have stayed out of my business.

As I was absorbed in my memories, the screen door opened forcefully and hit my nose with a thud. Anna was standing on the other side, horrorstricken. She had her curly hair pulled into a high ponytail and was wearing a white tank top with shorts.

After the stars began to fade from my eyes I noticed why Claire was so worried about her daughter. On her thighs, right above her knees were dark purple bruises, probablly made from somebody with strong hands. They matched ones one her arms.

"Sam, I am so sorry! I..."

"It's okay, really. My fault," I pressed my left hand against my nose, feeling the oncoming of a headache. "I shouldn't have been eavesdropping."

Anna went around me and walked down the creaky steps. Not sure what to do, I followed.

"Anna, I, uh, I found out some information on the Tommy Carnell murder."

The girl stopped walking, crossing her arms. By that point we had reached the sidewalk, its sides overgrown with grass and weeds.

"And? Am I just crazy? Or is there something more?"

I stood direclty in front of the girl. "Have you heard of Lacy Wilson before?"

Anna looked surprised. Her brown eyes narrowed with confusion as she answered. "Of course. She went to my school. Everyone has. She's sorta the town legend."

"So you know the story then?" I was weighing my options. It was never easly trying to explain that an old campfire story was actually true. Most of the time it took great lengths to prove it. I hoped I wasn't going to have to go down that road with Anna.

"Highschool girl, abused. Boyfriend went physco and killed her."

I decided to skip the whole, "It's true" story and just find out what I needed. "Anna, do you know where Lacy's body is buried?"

I watched as Anna thought about the question, praying she'd give me an answer I'd like. Unfortunatly, from the teenager's deep concentration, I knew the answer before she said it.

"All I know is that she's buried in the woods somewhere. It can't be too far though, seeings it was her boyfriend who did it."

Sighing, I thanked Anna and turned away. I needed to buy the weapons I needed, and get started as quickly as possible. This sounded like an all day trip and I wanted as much daylight as possible.

"Sam!" I heard from behind. Anna had a worried expression on her face. "Is it true? What the stories say? Is Lacy really haunting us?"

Silently I nodded. Waiting, I was surprised when the teenager didn't respond. Turning my head slightly, I noticed that she had begun to walk in the oppisite direction. I wondered, for a moment, if she was upset. I wondered if I should have talked to her some more. But the day was already upon me and I had a job to do. Alone. With no help.


	9. Chapter 9

I wasn't sure why I was so anxious to get this job finished with. Usually I was the one who took time to make sure everything was correct. Double checking all our stuff, being extra precatious, not rushing into a job. That was Dean. Constantly I told him not try and accomplish what he wanted on the spur of the moment, to think things through. But he never paid much attention to me, left that job for me.

I supposed he was the reason why I was running quickly through the samll shrubbery outside of the woods. Subconciously I believed that the sooner I finished this job, the sooner Dean and I would be reunited. Be able to work everything out.

The heat was miserable. Between the heat index and constantly jogging I was covered in sweat. It felt as if I had just came out of the shower. But I wasn't going to stop. Every minute or so I took a sip from a canteen I'd brought along.

At one point my foot tripped over a tree root, causing me to fall. My right side landed in dirt and dead leaves. Both stuck to my sweat like glue, dirtying me up even more. Breathing heavily I looked around. Why was I running? It was alittle past eleven. I still had plenty of daylight left. Even while I was shopping I was jumpy. Feeling as if the check out line was taking an eternity, when, really, there were only two people ahead of me. And numerous times catching my myself from snapping at friendly workers, who held me back by trying to have small talk.

I didn't want small talk. I wanted this goddamn hunt to be over. But, I had to remind myself, rushing would cause careless mistakes. Which could be fatel.

I'd been in the woods for about five minutes. From the old man I'd bought the matches and a lighter (just in case) from, Henry had taken Lacy out here about nine. He was seen walking home at midnight. About the time of Tommy's death.

I assumed Henry had taken Lacy into the woods, tried to take advantage of her, but when she held her ground, he beat her, bashing her head into a tree, probablly not even realizing she was dead until he stopped. When he saw her lifeless body, he panicked, and buried her. And all in three hours.

"C'mon," I coaked myself. My body was beginning to get a dull ache. Which wasn't surprising, seeings in the matter of two days, I'd been hit with a fist and a door. And now falling face first onto a forest floor.

I searched for a trail. Anna had mentioned a hang out place out here, and the bagger at the grocery store told me there used to be one, had been there for over twenty years. I figured Henry had taken it that fateful night.

Turning left, I peeked through a small patch of bushes and saw a clearing about three feet wide. It continued ahead, until eventually curving left. It seemed luck was with me that morning.

Just as I began to turn the corner, the sweat on my face subsiding gradually and my mind becoming more calm and focused, my cell phone rang. My heart lept. With shaking hands I reached into my pants pocket. It wasn't there. Checking my bag, I found it wasn't in there either. The ringtone sounded as if far off.

I groaned. It must have fell out when I tripped over the ground. Once again, I resumed running, hoping to catch Dean before he got my voicemail.

But by the time I reached the spot of my falling, the cell phone had stopped and I saw the picture stating I had a message. Picking the phone up frantically I listened, my breath seeming to have stopped. At least he had left a message this time.

"Sam, I'm sorry to bother you, I know your busy, but I need to talk to you. It's about Anna. I won't go into details right now, just please call immediatly as you can."

I closed the phone, angry. It wasn't Dean. It was Claire. What was I? Anna's baby-sitter? Sure, I enjoyed her company. But I had to get this thing done and interruptions were slowing me up.

I kicked the tree next to me. Then I kicked it again. Running a hand through my hair, I thought of the reasons Dean would leave me alone. He was still in town, I could feel that. And I was sure he listened to all my messages. Was he embarrased? He was the one who wanted me to read his journal, I didn't ask to.

All I knew was being stuck in unkown woods, not even positive I was going in the right direction, in search of a ghost, was not helping calm my nerves. Instead it was multiplying all my nerves and paranoya about a hundred times.

After composing myself, and leaving the tree with a considerable loss of bark, I continued back on the path, forgetting altogether about Claire's call, trying my best to focus.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, this wasn't originally where I was heading with this story, but your reviews got me thinking that Dean had to make an appearence. So it's gonna be Dean's POV. Hope ya like it!**

Slowly I lifted my eyelids. My stupid cell phone was going off again. For three days I'd been staying at this motel, yet I'd recieved more calls than in two years combined.

Glancing at the caller ID, I noticed that the number wasn't Sam's. Big surprise. Since last night he'd called about thirty times. But I had refused to answer, choosing instead to watch the phone with a broke heart. I still wasn't ready to deal with him.

Last night he'd found out every deep secret I'd kept from him. He knew I wasn't the tough guy I always put on for him.

Maybe if you'd acted like me alittle more you would have had friends. Those words still stung me. That was almost as bad as Sam attempting to shoot me.

Between the two events I was having a difficult time determining if Sam really wanted to be on this trip with me. Yes, I asked him to take care of the Woman In White, but I hadn't forced him to follow me afterwards.

Answering the phone with a grunted, Yeah, I ran the possibilties of who was on the other end through my head. Was Sam using another phone? No, he couldn't have. It was sunset, he'd still be out hunting that spirit.

"Dean?" a woman's voice on the other end asked. She sounded worried.

"Yeah?"

I heard a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness. This is Claire Davenport."

I began to rummage my brain for recognition. Nothing was coming.

"I'm Anna's mother. I threw the menu at you after you hit Sam."

"Oh! Right," I frowned. Why was this lady calling me at the end of a Sunday. Usually women like her would be making a nice dinner for her family, spending most of the morning in church. At least, that's what I'd seen from traveling for six months.

"Listen, I am so sorry to bother you. It's just...I need your help with something. Sam left us this number before he left."

"Okay?" I was confused.

"Can you meet me at my house, I'd rather talk to you in person."

After agreeing and getting directions I hung up the phone. Pacing, I began to wonder why this lady would call me out of the blue to talk to me. Was it some plan of Sam's? He had gone to college, he was smart enough to come up with something like that. He could have lied about the ghost, using it as an excuse.

I was thinking faster than I could process. I was beginning to actually believe this was all trick to get me to talk to Sam again.

I wasn't going to give in so easily. I made sure I took plenty of extra time getting ready, cleaning up the room a bit, grabbing some condiments and making a snadwich. Dark had just settled before I pulled my baby into the Davenport driveway.

----

The woman must have been waiting for me. She came running down the porch steps as quick as she could, almost tripping once on a crack in the sidewalk, regaining her balance, and meeting me at my car.

Throwing her large arms around me she cried, "Oh thank God you're here! Oh Dean, I was so worried you wouldn't come."

I stood there awkwardly, holding my arms in the air. This was taking the scheme alittle far, I thought.

"Dean," Claire pulled away, running her hand under her nose. I noticed that her eyes were red and blotchy, her mascara was smudged. It looked as if she'd been crying for some time.

My hands went to the lady's shoulders, trying to sooth her. "Mrs. Davenport, tell me what's wrong. What happened?"

Letting out another sob, she answered me. "It's Anna. She said she was going to protect Dave. She left before I could stop her. It's been over six hours and I haven't heard from her."

A small amount of anger built up inside of me. Claire had made it seem as if Sam was in trouble. Instead, it was her daughter, out with some guy, probablly partying it up.

"Mrs. Davenport, I'm sure your daughter's fine. Ten to one she's lost track of time and will walk through your door any minute now."

Letting yet another sob pour out Mrs. Davenport grabbed onto my jacket. "No! You don't understand! She was dilusional when she left! She said something about Sam being right and having to stop the murders. She wouldn't even explain it to me, just went upstairs, grabbed a backpack, and left. But I saw her sneaking into the shed out back and taking lighter fluid!"

My eyes widened. That hint of fear had returned. "Mrs. Davenport," I said slowly. "Did my brother tell Anna what he was doing today?"

I was hoping; praying Claire would reassure me that Anna had no idea where Sam was, or what he was up to. But how often were the coincidenses of that. It wasn't an everyday occurance that a teenage girl would steal lighter fluid, with no explaination.

"I heard them talking early this morning. She had asked him about the murder that had happened recently, but how is that related at all to where she's at?"

I tried desperatly to remember what Sam had said on all the phone messages. Once again, I cursed myslef for being so hot-tempered and not paying attention to his explainations. There was something about a Lacy. She had done something. No, something had happened to her. She was killed, but for the life of me I couldn't remember how.

"Is there any chance I can look at Sam's stuff?"

Claire looked at me. I knew she didn't understand why Sam's work pertained to her daughter, but I wasn't in the mood to share.

I searched the room haed to toe. Sam always left the information out in the open. For convenience, he'd say. But that night I couldn't find a damn thing relating to the story.

I searched the bed, then his bag, finally reaching the desk. On it, partially closed, was his laptop. What an idiot. There was everything I needed. If it were a snake it would have bit me.

Opening it, I noticed Sam had bookmarked a page. I clicked on the site and read the title. "Horrible Death Stirrs Town"

Reading, I thanked Sam for not making the job of learning about Lacy Wilson too tedious.

A few minuted later I put the computer back to its original spot, having all the information I would get from it.

The woman was back, but this time she had a box of tissues. "We'd had a fight this morning. I...I was just so concerned about her."

Looking at the woman softened me up a bit. I'd always pictured Sam having a life like the Davenports. Nice job, caring wife, beautiful baby. For the longest time I had thought it would have been Jessica to fill the wife spot, but that evil bastard had ruined it all.

"I should have known. When she first came home with that lack eye. She claimed it was from gym, a ball had accidently came her way. She even got her friend to cover for her."

Walking over to the woman, my interest peaked. What was she talking about.

"Anna was such a good daughter. Whenever she wore long clothes she said it was because she didn't like showing her skin. Or it was chilly out. Was I that naive?"

"Mrs. Davenport, you don't know your daughter is in harm, for all we know she might have gotten angry and left for awhile." Like, Sam. He had spent many nights at friends, choosing to stay away from Dad and I after a brutal arguement.

"I know she's in trouble! That boy finally took her! I told her to stop seeing him months ago, but she didn't pay any attention. Now, he's gone too far!"

Instantly, it all pieced togehter. Anna was getting beat up. Lacy had been beat. Was Anna going after Lacy because she was pissed at her?

"Have you tried calling her boyfriend's cell phone lately?"

"Of course I called Dave! Hundreds of times. And Anna's! I've even called Sam's!"

"You called Sam?" I questioned. It wasn't like my brother to not answer his phone. Especially when he was on the job.

"Yes, as soon as Anna left. I left him a message. I told him that whatever the hell he told Anna she was following. But he hasn't called back."

Now it was my turn to get worried. More and more I didn't like the sound of this. Claire had to have called Sam around eleven, when she first saw Anna was up to something. Sam couldn't have been so absorbed in hunting that he would have forgotten to check his messages.

I kicked myself for not coming sooner. If I hadn't acted like the big macho man I still would have had some light to work with.

Pushing all the last days events aside I prepared to go search for my brother. Something was wrong, I could feel it. As I made my way down the stairs, skipping the last two I thought back to today. I'd spent most of it in my room, watching pointless t.v. shows. Sam had called right before he'd gone into the woods, one last time. But I couldn't remember a phone call after that.

Cursing, I began to jog towards the Impala. I should have known. Sam was consistent in calling every few hours. I should have sucked up my ego and made sure he was all right.

How could I have let him go on a hunting trip alone? He wasn't like me. He didn't know as much as I did. Dad hadn't taught him as much.

"Damn it!" I screamed, once inside the car. Hitting the steering wheel I shook my head. What had happened to him. My baby brother. I'd left him for shit, and now he was in trouble and I had no clue where to start looking.

Mrs. Davenport was standing on the porch steps, arms crossed, crying. I knew it was wrong to just leave her like that, but I hated wasting another second at that house.

Turning on the engine I thought of places to look. The woods. But I had not the slightest idea of where they were. I yelled. Putting the car in park I got back out of the car and towards Claire.

"Mrs. Davenport, if you want me to help your daughter I need to know some things."

The woman nodded.

"Where are the woods everyone talks about?"

"Behind the high school, about three miles past the town square."

"Okay, do you have the slightest idea what Anna's plans were for tonight?"

Shaking her head, Claire answered with a somber, "Not a clue."

With promises of calling at the first sign of news, I walked back to the car, trying once again to leave.

----

Spinning gravel as I parked, I took only a moment to cut the engine and get out. The whole ride took less than four minutes, but to me, it felt like an eternity. I opened the trunk, unsure of what to get. I wasn't positive with what I was dealing with. Deciding on a shot gun with rock salt, a matchbox, a small container of lighter fluid, and a pistol in my jacket, I closed the back.

I had to take a breath. Rushing into things was what got people hurt. It left the door open for mistakes. I had to think about where to look. But first...

Digging my cell out of my pocket I hit Sam's number. It felt like my heart had stopped. I hoped beyond anything Sam would pick up, tell him he was sorry for all the crap that happened between them and tell him he and Anna were just hanging out at a coffee shop, safe and sound.

One ring

Two rings

Three...

His voice mail picked up. I let our a fustrated grump. What had happened to him?

"Sam...it's Dean. Pick up. Tell me where you are." I waited a moment. "Sam...I'm sorry for punching you. But if you don't answer this phone and tell me your alright I swear I'm going to hit you again..."

Silence. Deep in my heart I knew he didn't know his phone was ringing.

With more determintation than ever, I slammed the phone shut and began walking into the woods, not giving a damn what was ahead of me.


	11. Chapter 11

My head was in pain. A jolt of searing heat ran through my left leg. It felt as if someone were stabbing my bones with a butcher's knife.

Afraid, I opened my eyes slowly. For the life of me I couldn't remember what had happened. I remembered running through the woods, searching for Lacy. But after that it all was so fuzzy.

Putting my hands down I felt cold concrete. Suddenly a chilly wind swept through and I shivered. Wherever I was it was freezing.

I attempted to open my left eye, but when I managed to open the lid, another wave of pain ran through my temple. Something had happened to my left side.

Finally building up the courage, I looked around. Only, I wasn't able to see much. The place was pitch black. Turning around, arms spread wide, I tried feeling for a wall. I was met with another set of cold, wet concrete.

From somewhere nearby I could hear a faint drip of a pipe, most likely rusted and neglected. I pushed my mind for an understanding of where I was.

Walking forwards, my injured leg felt as if it were on fire. Although I wanted to get away from this place, my body wasn't going to allow it. Rubbing my hands over my face, I felt, with widening horror, dried blood. My blood.

"Where am I!" I screamed. I hated the dark and I hated not knowing what was going on. All I knew was that I had been beat up pretty bad and I couldn't possibly be in a safe place.

Searching for my phone, I realized that all my gear was missing. Cell phone, backpack...my pistol. Everything. Gone.

I had heard Anna's screams. She was crying at someone. I was in the woods, and I'd heard her outbursts. It had came from ahead of me, along the path.

I was beginning to remember. I had to, I had to find my way out of this place.

I followed her voice for a good mile, yelling out her name, coaking her to come to me. Then I'd heard a man's screams. He was yelling at someone. At Anna, I was sure.

There might've been a third voice. But it was muffled, only saying things at great intervals.

Then there was a gunshot. I had started running faster, positive I would reach the girl soon. When the gunshot rang out I stopped dead in my tracks. Which one had been shot? Who fired?

Falling to my knees, I decided this was the best way to move for the time being. My left leg was in worse pain than I had ever experienced. My head was pounding and I felt my brown hair stuck to my head from the dried blood.

It was so difficult to move. In the darkness I had no idea where I was going, but I continued on, bearing the pain and the unknown.

"Anna!" I remembered screaming. The woods had gotten thicker. From somewhere off in the distance I saw an opening, in the shape of a circle. There were logs and a bonfire pit. I could see myself slinging my backpack off and kneeling to the ground. Buried under a reasonable amount of dirt was a necklace. It was a gold locket.

My ability to move was becoming almost impossible. My breathing was ragid and I could feel every muscle in my body starining to take another crawl. It hurt like hell. Suddenly I stopped dead still. My outstretched hand felt something. Something I'd felt just minutes ago.

Concrete.

I began to panic. With renewed strength, I turned to my right and walked farther. Eventually I was met with the same outcome.

I didn't need to make another turn. I knew what was there. I was in a room. A concrete room on a concrete floor.

Like a dungeon.

Fear overtook me. I was handicapped from my leg down, I couldn't remember what had happened before I got here, I couldn't even remember how long I'd been here. I felt my eyes heat up. I wanted so desperatly to cry. I wanted to call out for help.

But who would be there to save me?

Dean. I let out a muffled cry. Why didn't I convince him to help me? Did he know I was in trouble. I hoped beyond anything that he was out there searching for me, looking for me. I needed him now more than ever.

"I have to see him again. One more time. I have to tell him I'm sorry." I said to thin air. I had left Dean messages telling him how horrible I felt, but it wasn't like saying it person. I had to let Dean know that I still loved him and I hated the things I said to him.

With newfound determintation, I stood up. My left side cramped up, but I wouldn't let that stop me. I had to find a door. If it meant dealing with a most likely broke leg I didn't care. I was going to find a way out.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sorry to all for making the last chapter so short, I had to go to work and didn't feel like coming back to that chapter. But I PROMISE this chapter will be long.**

The wheather had taken a ninety degree turn since that afternoon. The wind carried a cool chill and the temperature had dropped down to the seventies.

I had to strain my eyes to see through the trees. I had found the dirt path half an hour ago, following it with determination I hadn't felt in many years. From all around me the animals were going mad, making all sorts of inhuman sounds, scaring the hell outta me.

Every few minutes I would let out a shrill yell. Deep down I knew Sam couldn't hear me, but it still comforted me. The thought of my baby brother all alone and most likely scared to hell was tearing me up inside. There were several times while running that my emotions got the better of me and I let out an angered scream.

Thoughts raced through my mind. Could Sam possibly be in a worse situation than I could imagine? Was he even in the woods? Where would I find him? Or, worse yet, what condition would he be in when I found him?

I couldn't allow thoughts like those to cloud my mind. They were already driving me paranoid. But thinking of Sam, needing my help so badly was a reaccuring event. When he was little, and I heard him yell for me from his room, I always got a moment of fear that something bad was happening to him. In seventh grade, when he had spent the night with some friends and he called me at two in the morning, I was terrified of what was wrong. The thought of Sam in danger scared me more than most other things.

If it could have been me in his position, I would have switched it instantly. I'd much rather know Sam was safe. I could take whatever came to me, but Sam...he was still young and dumb.

He didn't deserve this. He had a life. Some day I'll be a brother in- law and an uncle.

Those thoughts were on my mind as I stumbled out of the trees and into a clearing. All around were dead tree trunks and remains of a fire. Somehow I knew Sam had been there.

Looking around I sensed something unusual, but nothing that caught my attention. It was obvious the place had been occupied recently. There were footprints all over the dirt and the ashes in the fire looked new. But there was somethong else.

Searching the ground for Sam's shoeprints, I realized the task would be impossible. Someone else had the same shoes as him, and also, the footprints were all over the place. Whoever was there moved around a lot.

While I was on one knee, looking at what I thought was my brother's footprint, I noticed something near the other side of the clearing. It had caught the corner of my eye and I figured it might help to look.

Walking over there my heart began to tighten once again. My throat closed up and I felt as if I were going to be sick. From my eyes I felt the incredible urge to cry, something I had taught myself against years and years ago.

Lying, partially hidden by a fallen branch, was Sam's backpack. Hanging out of it was the lighter fluid, partially opened. Blood was everywhere. On the bag, on the ground, there were even drops going back into he woods. There was more blood than any person should have shed. Whatever happened wasn't just a fleshwound, it was a brutal blow.

Looking around, I learned what I had found off. Throughout the clearing, spread out, were little drops of blood. They weren't much, just here and there, but I figured the rest had been walked over and covered up. It was obvious more than one person had been there, and it seemed like they'd beaten up whoever else had been there pretty damn bad.

Hot, searing anger ran through me once more. I was going to find the son of bitch who had taken my brother and kill them. Even if it was the last thing I did, I was going to find Sam.

-----

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Twenty minutes, at least, had passed since I began searching for the damn door and still had no luck. I was about ready to give up, say screw it all, but Dean's face kept popping into my head, reminding me of the job I needed to get done.

My entire left side had gone numb. All except my leg. If I'd had even a hint of light in the room I would have checked to see what had happened to it, but I was pretty sure I knew. With every passing minute my memory came back and I remembered how I had ended up in that hell.

I'd picked up the locket, intrigued by how beautiful it was. From the looks of it, it was antique, with engraved roses and a long chain. I opened it up, trying to see if someone had put a picture inside. There was. It was an old photograph, taken some time ago, but it was of a beautiful girl, with long blonde hair, and a smile that spread across her entire face. The girl looked to be about the same age as Anna.

Turning it over, I realized with horror who it was. Engraved, in thin cursive writing, it read, "To Lacy, I love you."

I stood up, hand still holding the locket. From the way it was halfway buried it seemed that someone had just dropped it. But why would anyone have Lacy's locket. I assumed it was from her boyfriend, meaning she probably wore it whenever she was out with him.

Becoming suspicious, I wondered if it were all a trap. Had Lacy's spirit placed the locket here on purpose, knowing I would find it. I wasn't sure what to think. Maybe Lacy was buried in the clearing. Maybe it was a sign that this was the place.

Just as I was pocketing the watch, I heard another scream, but this time my name was being said.

"Sam! Sam...help! Please! She's going to kill him! HELP!"

I recognized it as Anna's, but was not completely sure as to what direction. It sounded as if it were coming from ahead of me, but then changed to the left.

Before I got a chance to run after her, something hard hit the crown of my head and I passed out.

All these memories were stirring my brain. I tried to remember what happened after that, but nothing came. It would take awhile before it all came back.

I slammed my fist against the wall, forgetting it was thick concrete and letting out a short scream. There was no door in that room. I had checked every inch. The room was only 9x7 so it didn't take too long to check, and I was positive I felt nothing resembling an exit. There was not one break in the concrete...not even a crack.

Running my right hand through my hair I considered my options. I was currently a cripple, no denying that, and from the grumbling in my stomach, was short on food, meaning weakness on my part.

An awful odor filled my nose. It was probably myself. There was no way of knowing how long I'd been in there, but from the feel of my fingers, I was filthy. There were cakes of dirt under my nails and covered most of my hands and arms. From touching the bottom of my jeans I felt dried dirt all the way up to the back of my knee. The bottoms were torn and ripped in several spots.

Wondering if the rest of my clothes were as bad off as my pants, I felt my stomach and back. My jacket was all together, but there were parts that were downright disgusting. I must have been through some pretty dirty areas.

I tried to listen for noises, but I was concerned with my saftey to listen for very long. I was unable to hear the pipe I'd first heard when I woke up, but I was positive it had came from inside the walls.

Giving up on the search for the door I pondered over what was to become of me. Had someone left me hear to die; to starve to death, or pass out from no medical care. It seemed likely.

Although those were horrible options, the worse part about the whole thing was, having to be left alone with only my thoughts for company. Whoever did this to me knew I had a guilty conscience and wanted me to be constantly thinking about Dean and how big of an ass I was to him.

That would be the worst way to die, I believed. Alone with your thoughts, nothing else to bother you except your guilt and need the dying need to escape.

Once more the memories came back. I had been hit over the head with something extremely heavy. I'd been out for about five minutes, I guessed. During that time my hands had been tied behind my back, as were my legs. Glancing around I saw a shovel lying next to me. The weapon used to knock me out.

Regaining all my senses took too long. Something kicked me hard in the ribs. From my vantage point on the ground I saw a vage view of my attacker. They were small, with a long slender body and thin fingers.

"Don't you dare try and move." the person said. It sounded like a female, but I couldn't be sure. My eyes were still trying to focus when I heard them lift up their right foot and kick my face.

Afraid that my cheekbone had broken, I rubbed my tongue over the inside of my cheek. It was bleeding. Lying still as a stone I waited for the next blow to come.

But none came. Instead the beast covered my eyes with a bandanna and left me in the dark.

Several minutes later, just when I was beginning to think they'd left, I felt strong arms grab hold of my biceps. There was no way that little person could pick me up. I weighed twice as much as her.

But without even hesitating I was lifted from the waist up.

Scared to hell, I began to run through what had happened. That little petite person I had seen for less than a moment was definitly not the same person that was dragging me across the ground with ease.

My eyes were getting heavy. I'd been trying so hard to remember what had happened I'd barely noticed I'd thrown off my jacket and spread it out on the cold floor. There was no point in continueing the search for the escape. Wherever the exit was, it would still be there when I woke up. But for the time being my body was telling me I needed to lie down. My head was getting light headed. I believed that the injuries to my body were finally taking a toll.

Curling up on my battered jacket, I tried to calm myself down enough to sotre up some energy. I knew I'd need it soon.

I was asleep before I knew it.

-----

It was deep into the night when I was sprinting through the woods, swiveling my head back and forth to make sure I wasn't missing anything.

I'd left calm and catious behind me a long time ago. Since I'd found Sam's bag, covered in his blood, my mind went into hunt mode.

But, this time, it wasn't just another creature from the deep realms of darkness, it was something that wanted to harm me. And hell if I would let it beat me. Dean Winchester never lost.

"Hang in there Sam, I'm coming for you." Saying this helped me focus. I kept making promises with God, telling Him I would never be mean to Sam again if only He let me see him again. "I will tell him every little secret I kept from him...just please let me get to him in time," I begged.

As I was running I noticed that some of the bushes were seperated. A few even had branches pulled off and the ground looked as if it were trampled on. Bendind down, I shined my flashlight on certain spots. At first I noticed nothing, but then shining the light a second time I saw a small peice of fabric. Picking it up, I cringed. The fabric was from jeans. The same shade as a pair Sam had.

Wherever the woods led to, I was sure Sam had been taken. For what seemed the millionth time that night it seemed I stood back up and continued looking for my baby brother.


	13. Chapter 13

My shoes were sticking to the floor of the woods. While running I'd found a few other peices of fabric. It was made clear that someone had dragged Sam across the ground, and was very sloppy at it.

Lifting my foot up, I became extremely fustrated when it took more effort than needed. I looked down and groaned. It was mud.

I hated mud. Mud slowed me down. But I couldn't stop by then. I knew with all my heart that Sam had been taken that way; I just had to suck it up and sludge through.

Wondering how long the damn woods were, I dug out my cell phone and called Claire. It took the woman three rings to pick up, and even then she wasn't altogther coherent.

"Sorry to bother you, Claire. But I needed to know...how big are the woods behind the school?"

Taking another several long moments to reply, I continued dragging my boots through the mud. "Oh, I'd say at least twenty five miles. Maybe more. Why, have you found Anna?"

Groaning, I told the lady I had an idea, and was about to hang up, when she went on. "Oh, yes, I'd say about that much. The Franklin's hated them being so small. And who would disagree. A fast runner could get through them in a fairly short amount of time, and living right in front of it could get annoying. Unfortunatly, they've passed on, so no one's had to worry about that."

For once I was thankful Mrs. Davenport used her talking skills. "Excuse me, did you say there was a house on the other side?"

"Oh yes. The woods wrap around. Our other half of the town is on the other side. Most people use those woods to camp and take wilderness hikes."

"I gotta go," I said quickly. Closing the phone, I thought of the possibilities. Did Anna's boyfriend, Dave, get pissed at Sam and take him. It had to be somebody who could drag Sam several miles without problems. Which ruled out Lacey. Besides, legend said she was buried in the woods. Spirits can't leave their place of death.

Twenty five miles. I figured I'd already gone seven. Leaving a whole lot more ahead. My heart didn't want me to stop. My foolishness told myself I could do it, I could make it. I didn't need to rest. That Sam was out there, and if it were him in my situation he would keep going. But my mind and body were screaming. It had been awhile since I'd run eight miles straight. My poor legs wanted to give out. Going from constantly sitting in a car to running a marathon was hard on them.

Sam, would he really keep running. My breath was coming in short gulps. After getting off of the phone with Claire I realized just how tired I really was. Sticthces in my side and cramps in my feet forced me to stop.

Keep on running. Sam wouldn't do that. I would do that. And that was why I was going to fail to find him in time, because I was a lowsy hunter.

"No!" I yelled. Thinking that way, believing it was already too late was going to hurt me. I couldn't let one bad image of Sam pop into my brain. It would freak me out. Besides, I knew I was a good hunter deep down. Dad had taught me well. I just needed to have faith in myslef.

As I was recupurating, the answer of what to do came to me. It was the only way.

I had to go back.

My mouth opened wide and I let out a deep, dark scream while I rammed my fist into the tree next to me. I couldn't help. My anger had escaped before I could stop it.

But I was so furious. Time was flying by and I still wasn't even positive Sam would be at that house. But trying to finish walking the sixteen miles through bushes and mud, in the middle of the night, with freaky animals, was not going to get me far.

I had to go back to my car, find out how to get to that house, and go there. And find out if Sam had been taken there.

Readjusting my duffel bag and Sam's backpack, I began to head back; head down, spirit sinking.

------

Driving as fast as I felt I could without getting a ticket, I attempted to clean up a bit. The clock in the Chevy read 4:51 A.M. Dawn was coming; fast. I had tried to jog back to the beginning of the woods, but I was too worn out. The entire trip I'd kicked myself for being so slow.

But, I'd eventually crawled back out of the trees and into the open. My breath was ragged and I was doubled over; winded. Seeing my baby, parked in the deserted grass, its windshield covered in dew, cheered me up a bit. At least no teenage punks had decided to mess with it while I was gone.

Pulling out the town map Sam had forced me into buying from under the passenger seat, I studied where the Franklin house was located. From the looks of it, I had another fifteen minutes of driving ahead of me.

Pressing the gas pedal alittle harder, I dared a cop to pull me over.

----

The house looked as if it were pulled out of a classic text book horror story. Moss covered trees overhung the long, thin sidewalk. It was painted a dull, peeling gray with navy blue shutters that were hanging by only a hing.

Although it was a fairly large house, with two or three stories, it didn't look as if it were being used.

Walking up to the front door, I noticed that the windows and door were boarded up. "Just dandy," I mumbled. Going around the side, and managing to get tangled in every sort of previous living plant, I checked the side out. It wasn't better. There was mold growing on the side wall and one of the windows was busted.

Turning the corner to the back, I had looked straight past the fallen oak tree. It was on its side, its dead leaves covering a vast amount of area.

With the backside I had alittle more luck. The door to the back had several wooden boards lying a few feet from it, and the door was cracked.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," I said in a low voice. Securing my bags I walked up to the door, took a deep breath, and pushed on the door.

It opened easier than I'd expected. Years of kids busting in must have loosened the hings. Also, it looked like a pretty weak ass door. The Franklin's must not have spent much money on high quality home equipment.

The inside was dark, but the rising sun allowed me to see certain spots. Coughing, I looked around. The place was covered in dust. The door led into a small dining room, with a wooden table and six chairs surrounding it. The walls were covered in an ugly flowered wallpaper, with paintings of forests framed hung up.

Directly to the right, was an adjoining living room. There was the typical couch and loveseat, with the stiff backed chair, and in the center a glass coffee table. On the other wall was a brick fireplace, with bookscases covering the rest of the wall. The house screamed old people.

Walking over to the living room, I stopped short in front of a small oak desk. On it was a telephone that had long been disconnected, some yellowed paper, and a photograph in a miniture circular gold frame. It was of a group of girls, about twelve years old, taken in front of that house. Upon a closer look I realized that one of the girls was Anna.

"What the hell?" This was turning into a real complicated situation. I just wanted to find my brother and get him back to our hotel. Then we could worry about whatever creepy was going on in the town.

Deciding to investiagte the rest of the house, I pulled out my flashlight, glanced at my pistol, and made a short decision that that might come in handy.

Walking back into the dining room, throwing my arm over my nose to keep out some of the dust, I began my room inspections.

The kitchen was attached to the dining room. Not much different than the other rooms. Shitty wallpaper, old furniture, tacky curtains.

I went from room to room on the first floor. There was a foyer on the other side of the kitchen, which led to a long, dark hallway. From fisrt galnce it looked like there were four or five rooms.

"Well, might as well get started."

The first door held a closet, filled with moth eaten coats and rotten shoes.

The second door contained a tredmile and some weights. The owners might have had crappy taste in decorating, but at least they stayed in shape.

The third door I tried held a bedroom. The walls were white (thank God, no wallpaper) and the floor had a simple tan carpet. In the center was a bed and across from it a long white dresser. Once again I felt something off, but couldn't quite place what it was.

I slowly made my way over to the dresser. Something was sitting on it, but I couldn't see from the doorway.

Eventually, every second felt like an hour by that point, I saw a beautiful gold necklace sitting there. It was open, but I wasn't sure what it held.

Squinting, I shined my flashlight on the inside. It was a picture. I'd seen that picture before. But where? I cursed my mind for working so slow. She looked familar.

Before it came to me, i had given up. Sam was in that house, and I didn't want to waste time figuring out who was in some picture. Placing the locket in my pocket, I turned around and began to walk back out of the room.

**A/N: Please review, I'm really interested to know how you think the story is going to end. I always like to know how people are taking my stories! Thanks!**


	14. Chapter 14

My throat was so dry. It felt as if I hadn't drank in days. I'd spent every ounce of energy left screaming my lungs off. And now my body couldn't take it any longer, it had failed me, it was giving up on me.

Everything was clear now. I remembered what had happened. I knew where I was.

I also knew that getting out would be impossible without help. If Dean didn't save me, I was doomed.

But he would save me. He was there. I heard him. Of course, it could've been another dream. But I doubted it. I woke up to a loud bang. With nothing happening after that I settled back down again. And then...

I'd heard footsteps. Then I heard that familiar voice that I loved so much. It was so faint though, I had no clue what he said.

The footsteps had come from above me; as did his voice. Then, like a pounding wave, I figured everything out.

I couldn't find a door, because it wasn't on the wall.

It was above me.

My left side hurt so bad because I'd been dropped unto the concrete. When I threw my shoe up to see how far up the latch was, I discovered it had to be at least eight feet high. There was no way I could reach it.

So I did the only thing I knew. I began screaming. I yelled Dean's name louder and louder. I even threw my shoe back up there a few times, to try and make as much noise as possible.

But when I finally stopped my ranting, and heard silence from around me, I knew Dean had not heard anything. He'd left. I was literally right under his nose and he had no idea.

Falling to my butt, I pushed back yet another set of tears. It seemed lately all I did was cry. But there was no stopping the salty liquid. My mind had finally registered that I was in serious danger and had no way of getting out.

I tried to keep quiet. I didn't know why, no one would hear me. But I guessed I was too afraid to really let it all out.

That, too didn't last long. Years of pain, and fear, and anger poured out of me. Covering my face with my hands I really began to think that that was the end for me. That my life would stop short and I would never get to accomplish all the dreams I'd made. My sobbing increased. By that point my entire body was shaking, my wide shoulders moving up and down in a rythmic motion. All that money Dean had spent on me was a wasted cause. I'd be dead.

All the years of wanting, of wishing so hard that my mother had still been alive, and praying Dad would change his ways, and Dean, holding me tight against the big bad world, were the images that played in my head as I cryed. Unfortunatly, Dad was too wrapped up in his own world to change, and Mom was gone and was never coming back. And Dean couldn't protect me from the world all my life. I had face it eventually. And, as I looked up, I failed when I did.

I continued to cry, letting all the things that had hurt me rush out. Not caring what was happening at that point.

-----

The next room was a bathroom. And, of course, it had wallpaper. The Franklins were paranoid about wallpaper.

The sink and toilet looked fairly new, but the tub was an antique. It was one of those claw footed tubs, with a large basin and gold spickets. There was no telling how old it was. But I assumed the pipes were pretty damn old. I would never want to fix them.

Finishing the tour of the first floor I had found nothing that caught my attention, besides the locket. And it was pissing me off.

Turning back into the living room, I stopped short, my boots making echoing sounds through the empty hallway. Peaking around the corner, I caught a glimpse of the back of a girl. She was moving fast, rummaging through the paperwork on the side table. She was grumbling, and her voice sounded extremely deep.

I wanted to rush her. I guessed she was an accomplice to whoever had Sam, and I wanted to know what she did. But her pissed off attitude and the way she was moving so fast, made me hesitate. It was apperent she was searching for somethng, I just didn't know what.

She turned around and I got a better look at her. She had long blonde hair that sparkled in the rising sun's glow. Her body showed she was in pretty good shape. But she looked different. She couldn't have been older than eighteen. Just a kid. But I'd never seen a kid with that much ferocity before.

Holding my breath every time the chick looked up, I started to think over my options. Sam was nearby, if not in the house, and that girl knew where. She'd obviously lost something important. Maybe if I found it before her I could cut a deal with her. But what could a teenage chick be looking for in a deserted house?

My fingers traveled to my jacket pocket and felt the cool jewelry. I smirked. That had to be it.

My spirit lifted alittle, I focused my eyes back on the room. I was so self absorbed in creating a good bet, I never felt someone sneak up behind me and throw their hands over my mouth.

-----

Panicking, I tried to grab my attacker's wrist and push them away, but it was unnessisary. Taking a long look I recognized the person as Anna.

She pressed her finger to her lips in effort to keep my silent. I answered with raised eyebrows. She used the same finger to point down the hall.

As she led me away from the other girl, I was able to get a better look at the teenager. Her curly dark hair was matted to her head and her face looked hollow. Her body was worse. Both arms and legs were covered in everything from bruises, to deep gashes, to dust. Her poor tank top was ripped in multiple spots.

We continued walking, down to the other end of the hall, up the wooden stairs, and into the farthest room on that floor. Once we were safely locked inside a study, I turned on Anna.

"What the fuck is going on? How the hell did you get here? Where's Sam? And who was that?" the questions came one after the other. I tried to stop them, especially after seeing the girls alarmed face, but I was fed up playing hide and seek with whatever the hell I was hunting.

Anna let out a long breath. She looked close to tears. I felt guilty, I'd never meant to make her cry.

Guiding her over to a chair, I apologized, knelt beside her, giving her a chance to gather herself together again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," she said softly, her face had turned cold. She was most unlike her mother in regard of holding her emotions. From the look of it, she had experience with keeping her emotions hidden.

I wanted to say she reminded me of myself, but shook the thought away. I didn't hide my feelings, I just kept them from certain people. Who cared if it was the people I loved most.

Besides, I promised myself back in the woods I'd never keep another thing from Sam again. That was, if I found him.

"You didn't scare me. I just really wanna know whats going on," I answered, placing a hand on her shoulder, in hopes of her speeding up her speech.

Swallowing, Anna looked at me. She knew I was lying. "I'm so sorry Dean. I didn't mean for her to take Sam. I got scared and called for his help. I-I never knew this would happen." the tears were completely vanished; her somber face scaring me a bit.

"Anna, where's Sam? Please...I need to help him." I pleaded.

"I-I don't know. I've searched every inch of this house and can't find him. They have him in a hidden room somewhere."

"How do you know he's here?"

She turned that chilly face to me. "He's here. I watched them. They thought I was conked out. But I was stronger than Dave."

I pretended like I knew what she was talking about. "Okay, well, where would this room be, do you know?"

"I might. But if he's there...it's going to be a miracle if we can save him without being caught."

"Why?" I was ready to shake the girl. She knew where my brother was and wouldn't tell me. I thought I would die of impatience.

Looking deeper into my eyes, the girl replied. "Because, once you enter the cell...you don't leave. It's a one way ticket to hell."

"Please, Anna...please...just show me it," I was practically groveling. The need was becoming too great.

Without speaking, Anna got up, took a quick galnce at me and sighed, opened the door, and walked back downstairs.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I just wanted to give a quick thanks to everyone who reviewed. Mystery927, I appreciate your detailed reviews, you've given me a lot of tips and always cheered me up. Ghostwriter, thanks for keeping with the story and your encouraging reviews. Also, ashylns, Nate And Jake, Mistro and Daquiri, and supernaturalandlostfan. And anyone else I missed! Promise, I won't drag the story out for much longer!**

Time seemed to have stopped. There was life before I'd wound up in that place, growing up, on the road with Dean. And then there was life in that chamber. That was where thoughts of what could have become of me played over and over in my mind, like some sick movie I couldn't get away from. There'd been a time in my life, a recent time, that I believed I would actually escape the Winchester family. That hunting evil spirits would be a distant memory.

Secretly, I always knew I could never get rid of what I was. In those journal entries Dean had talked about being the freak. But, as I laid on that concrete and bawled, I realized I was just as much one as him. I tried to deny it, but the truth was right there.

My head had begun to hurt. After several long minutes, I'd finally composed myself. My eyes had dried and I'd put on one of Dean's faces. The one that said "I don't care. I'm not telling anyone what I am feeling."

Sitting there, I got why my older brother had used that expression so often. It gave him a false sense of comfort. It made others think he really was alright; it led him down a path to believing nothing bad could come out of the job he was forced to have.

Silently, I wondered if he had that face on then. If he was searching that house, kicking open door after door, emotionless. Thinking of Dean made me feel, by that point, like I was being shot in the heart over and over again. I wanted him to know so badly. Let him know that I loved him and everything I said the other day was my anger speaking, not me.

I glared above me. That damn door. It taunted me. Stared back at me, pushing me to try and get to it. It knew I would fail.

"Dean," I said aloud. Talking seemed to be the only thing keeping me from going mad. "Dean, I'm so sorry. Please find me...I love you. I was an ass, but now I know better. I promise I won't take advantage of you anymore, as long as you get me out of here. I know you can. You're a perfect hunter." Talking to an imaginary Dean felt easier than the real person. I knew before the kidnapping I would never have been able to tell him the things I kept hidden. But, things had changed.

Hearing nothing after my long speech somehow made me angry. A part of me guessed that was how Dean would react. By not saying anything. Being too afraid to have a "chick flick moment."

I heard a few of my bones crack as I shifted from my uncomfortable position on my back. The thought of my entire left side being broken or sprained doubled my anxiety.

Just as I was about to spew another long rant to absolutely nothing, I heard a small creak from above me. Was I going mad? I had to be. Crying for long intervals, apologizing to someone who wasn't there, hearing things.

But then I heard another one. Had Dean come back? Had he figured out I was down here? My hopes took a horrible drop as I heard the sound of a female's voice. It was the girl. The one who had hit me with a shovel and dragged me to my death. Shivering, one part of me prayed she'd leave, and the other hoped she'd open the latch. Maybe drop some food or water. Anything to keep me alive for alittle while longer.

As I was debating whether to let out another scream, I heard an unmistakable voice. Fear gripped me. Had she captured Dean also? Praying harder then ever, I started pacing the room. It sounded like the two were talking. Then...movement. A lot of it. They were moving something. It sounded heavy.

Whatever it was, it was right above the latch. I stopped walking, my heart beating so loud I was sure they could hear it in the room.

There was a pause. My breathing temporarily stopped. Suddenly, I caught the sound of a grunt. A faint line of light began to fill the room. The light became larger. Soon I was able to see my hands and arms. Although I wished I couldn't. My right side was caked in dirt and dried mud, whereas my left arm had deep cuts that were covered in dried blood. Under my elbow was a long red strip, stopping about three inches above my wrist.

I chose not to look at my leg, instead titlting my head up to the light. Was the girl coming back for a second round?

"I think I see him moving,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he's standing...that's good."

I tried to follow the two voices, but they were talking too fast. One was Dean's, but the other...it did not sound like the person who had thrown me in that place. No, instead it sounded like...Anna's. But it couldn't be. I'd heard the girl fight her. Heard her fall to the ground, her attacker letting out a chilling laugh.

"Sam?" Dean's voice again. Finally, all parts of the door was pushed aside. I knew Dean had to use every ounce of strength to move it. When the evil bastard had opened it the first time, I'd noticed it had to weigh at least thirty pounds. I guessed hiding it under the queen sized bed wasn't enough, they wanted to take extra percaution in securing the place.

I tried to yell, but my throat wouldn't allow it. The light shining down was so bright. My eyes had been so accustomed to the darkness, the newfound brightness was killing them.

"Oh God, he can't hear me," I heard my brother say to the girl.

Attempting to call out to him, all that escaped from my lips was a measly groan. And God it hurt to do that much.

I was finally able to open my eyes. Replacing the door were two dark figures. Both looked so far away.

My mind processed who they were. Dean. One of them was Dean. He'd come to save me. He was going to rescue me.

All at once I tried to tell him every thing I'd thought about while stuck down there. I wanted to tell him how much I needed him before he left again. As long as I told him I'd be alright. My conscience would leave me alone for good.

"Sam, listen to me, we're going to get you out of there. Just be patient. We're going to find some rope."

Again I wondered if this was all a sick dream my head was taunting me with.

"Should we leave the door open?"

"No, if she sees it she'll know we're here."

Vaguely, I saw Dean frown. But it passed as quickly as it came. I wished more than ever I could have known what he was thinking. Turning to look back at me, his voice had changed; had become softer.

"Sammy, we have to go. The door is gonna have to be put back on. But, I promise...we'll be back. Just stay with me."

My eyes grew wide. They were leaving? They couldn't. I was going to die if they left. How could Dean do that to me. Just desert me.

He must have seen my worried expression, because the guy turned back a moment, then threw something down at me. It was so small.

Confused, I bent down and picked the object up.

"See, little bro. I won't leave here without you. Just give me some time to find what I need and kill the son of a bitch that did this to you."

He gave me one last long look and both him and the female moved out of the doorway. A moment later the piece of wood was back over my only escape. And following it was the sound of the bed being moved back.

Sitting down again, I closed my eyes. I hoped Dean could find what he needed soon. Before whatever was out there decided to speed up my death.

Cursing Dean for being so stupid as to throw away his only means of escape, I clenched my fist tighter. Feeling the cool metal of the Chevy's keys against my skin brought a new sense of comfort to me.

-------

"Your car keys? What if we need them!" Anna whispered in my ear. I was straining to hear any unusual sound coming from the hall. The last we'd seen of that chick she was still in the living room, but I was sure she had to have heard our conversation with Sam.

"Listen, it took me too long to find Sam. I'm not leaving this house until he's with me."

"I heard you the first time. But what if there's no rope here. What if you have to go buy some?"

"Trust me, a place like this will have some sort of rope."

"How can you be sure?"

I stopped walking. It was taking all my effort not to just tell Anna to shut the hell up and let me be. But she knew more about what had taken Sam than I did, and didn't want to piss her off.

Thankfully, she noticed my impatience and stopped the inquiry. My heart never wanted to leave Sam. When Anna pulled me into that bedroom and moved the bed, I was shocked. There it was. Cut out of the tan carpet was a wooden board in the shape of a square. Upon pulling it off and seeing Sam down there, so far down, caused my emotions to go into overdrive.

One part of me wanted to go after the girl, to find and torture whatever had put my brother through so much pain. The other, just as insane part of me, wanted to jump down into that hole, to hold unto Sam until he was better.

But the days of me just hugging my brother and giving him false expectations were over. I had to be resonable. Find a way to get him out and take him to a hospital.

When the light gave me a good view of him, I knew we were tempting time. All the cuts and scrapes looked pretty infected. And why wouldn't they be? He was enclosed in a living bacteria cell.

Anna's outstretched arm forced me back to the present. We had made our way back to the hallway and were taking our chances.

"Anna, do you knowanything about that physco girl in there?" I whispered.

Anna looked at me, wide eyed. "Yeah. I can tell you Sam was wrong. It wasn't Lacy's ghost that was killing all those people. It was most definitly a human."

Thinking over what Anna had just said, I pulled out the locket. "Is it this girl?"

Taking the necklace, the teenager's alarmed face increased. "Where'd you get this?"

"I found it in the bedroom."

Instantly I was pushed into the nearest room. Anna had shoved me; hard. Once we were locked inside yet another room, this time being a bathroom, Anna freaked out.

"Do you know what Michelle was looking for back in the living room?"

I remained silent.

"This!" Anna pushed the locket in my face. "She was looking for this! Don't you get it!"

Shaking my head, I continued to stare at the girl, alittle frightened.

"That's why she's been doing all that stuff! She's obsessed with Lacy!"

"WHO?" I hissed. I was not accustomed to women yelling and bossing me around like Anna was. I allowed it to go on for awhile, but by then I'd had enough.

Anna pulled back. Her stern face turned soft, and for the second time that morning I thought she was going to cry. But, just like last time, the teenager composed herself and continued on.

"She used to be my friend. Her and Jenna. But then, Mark got killed and Jenna swore it was Michelle's fault. We sorta broke up after that. I never dreamed it was her."

"Michelle?" My voice was strained. As with all suffering victoms, Anna had to take her sweet time in explaining the story.

"Yes. When Tommy died, everyone denied that she was responsible. But it really was her. She killed all those guys!"

I frowned. Sam had chased after Lacy's spirit, not some teenage serial killer.

Anna went on. "I don't know how she did it. The whole town thought she was an angel. Made great grades, volunteered. She was every mother's dream child. Only Jenna and I knew that she cut. She used to say it was because Tommy made her. But we both knew it was to escape the way he hurt her."

"So, that's why she killed him?" I asked, utterly confused.

"I guess. It makes perfect sense. She adored Lacy. Was always talking about her parents knowing her. So I guess when Tommy started hurting her, she was scared she'd end up like Lacy. But still, I don't see why she'd go and kill Mark...and Dave."

"Wait," by that point the girl was leaning against the bathroom wall, her whole body shaking. "Dave? I don't know..?"

"He was my boyfriend," Anna interrupted. "The three guys were friends, like us three girls. I guess when Tommy started hitting Michelle, the others followed suit."

My heart went out for the girl. I used to see a girl at one of my high schools who was beat up by her boyfriend; back then I felt strongly against it, and time only increased that belief.

"So, that girl...Michelle..she took out people who abused the people they loved?"

Anna nodded.

Although I wanted to tell the girl that I believed what she had told me, I wasn't buying the story. Sam had a good instinct, he wouldn't have gone hunting unless he knew what it was he was going after. And from the brief articles I'd read on-line, the killings began long before Michelle was old eniugh to carry something of that length out.

Something else was going on.

"How could that girl carry a very fit college student over twenty miles through the woods at night?"

I didn't mean to sound so ugly when I asked, but the question had popped into my head, and I was sick of wasting time.

Anna considered. "I'm not sure. But she did. I saw it with my own eyes."

The truth soared in front of my eyes.

"Shit."

"What?"

Rumaging through my bags, I realized the rock salt and lighter fluid would do no good. Kicking myself in the ass for leaving Dad's journal in the car, I groaned. In my rush to get into the house I hadn't checked to see if the journal was safely in my jacket. And Sam had my keys.

"Shit," I said again.

Searching through my bag, I found a small glimpse of hope. I'd forgotten to take the bottle of holy water out of my pack the last time we used it. It had slipped my mind. Thank God for fate.

Turning to Anna I decided she needed to know the truth if she was going to be with me on the expidition.

"Okay, Anna. You were partially right."

"Huh?"

"It was Michelle who killed all the people. And she did drag Sam into that cell. But it also wasn't her."

"I don't understand."

"You said Michelle cut herself. Meaning she had a weakness. And she was able to carry Sam that whole way. But it wasn't her doing it."

"Wait a minute, are you saying...?"

"That Lacy Wilson's spirit is possessing her? Yeah."


	16. Chapter 16

Time seemed to stand still for those brief moments after the understanding of what I had just said sunk in. The girl was already frightened, and who could blame her, her life had been turned upside down in less than a day.

But Anna was full of surprises. In the beginning I'd assumed she was just another character in the crazy story Sam and wrote while on our trip. We'd met tons like her, grieving and upset, forcing us to take them along wherever we went. But as we made our way through room after room in the old Franklin house, I discovered she was, actually, different. She was very intellegent, knowing exactly what we had to do when I told her about Michelle's possesion. And she kept her emotions in line better than I could. Never once did she shed a tear, even when she watched what she thought was her old friend murder her boyfriend. The chick was pretty damn good, I my opinion. And I was thankful to have her help me. She would frequently raise my spirits, promising me Sam was fine and that we'd get back to him soon.

My body was aching as we turned another corner on the second floor. It seemed that Michelle had left, leaving us no signs as to where to look next. Meanwhile my heart was tearing. It wanted so badly to go back to Sam. Every step away from his temporary prison caused my heart to break all over again.

As I waited in the hallway for Anna to use the bathroom I thought back to when I was fourteen. Sam was only ten, and we were living in one of ourworser apartements. Dad had brought us there to hunt a family of wherewolves, leaving us behind in a two bedroomed shithole. I remember it was late, almost midnight, and I couldn't fall asleep. I'd begged Dad to take me with him, but he insisted I stay and watch Sammy. I wanted to see one of those creatures so bad. I remember waking Sam up, telling him we were going on a walk. I made him carry a flashlight in one hand, and a small gun in the other.

I took him out in the woods behind our house. We walked for a long time, Sam had started complaining that he wanted to head back, but I was so damn set on catching sight of one of those beasts I didn't listen.

Then, something had jumped out from behind the bushes behind me. It had headed straight towards Sam. The kid was too scared to shoot. It was able to scratch little Sammy across the arm beforeI was able to hit its shoulders with a few rounds before it ran off.

Unfortunatly, Dad had heard the shots and found us on the ground, me cradling Sam, trying to stop his tears. I remember promising to him and to Dad never to lead Sam into danger. I promised on my life I would never let him get hurt.

Anna walked out of the bathroom. I tried to turn away, I knew she could see the tears that had brewed up in my eyes and threatened to fall.

"Dean, it'll be alright. This will all be over soon," Anna cooed, placing her hand on my shoulder. I knew that if the girl continued, I would surely be unable to keep my eyes dry. So I regretfully put on the act I had taught myself years ago.

"I know. But lets just get it over with." Shrugging her hand off I began the treck down the hall. Any feelings I'd had before had vanished. When hunting, I pushed everything aside. Thinking of what was happening around me usually led to mistakes. Something I couldn't afford to do.

We had discussed earlier what we needed to do. Every exorism chant was written in Dad's journal, which was locked away in the car. But Anna had reminded me that they weren't the only way to get rid of a demon.

There was always the original way. I was puzzled at first, but then the teenager pulled out a cross necklace she'd been wearing, promising it had been blessed by the local priest.

And after searching through several rooms we found a worn Bible in a desk drawer, it pages yellowed and dust covering the cover.

Anna had turned to me and said, simply. "It's going to be hard, but at least we got something."

I'd been nervous. The only secure weapon we had was the holy water, and even that only went so far. But looking into Anna's eyes and seeing that determination, told me we could accomplish it. The girl had so much faith, it scared me.

That was half an hour ago. Wherever Michelle was hiding, it was a pretty damn good spot. As we walked, a noise from below startled us. I thought it was Sam at first, freaking out. But then I remembered how far down he was, and knew he couldn't have made that big of a noise.

"The door," Anna whispered in my ear. "Someone just opened the back door."

My heart beat faster. I knew I had to be the strong one, to show Anna not to be afraid, but the thought of performing an exoricism made me alittle jumpy.

Walking with confidence, I began the decent back down the stairs, trying to be a quiet as possibe, but not getting very far with my heavy boots.

-----

"Dean," I croaked. My throat had gotten worse. It felt so dry. I had tried to stay sitting, but the dizziness in my head forced my to lie down. The room had become freezing, my body was shivering. It felt as if ice were being poured over my body. My eyes wanted to close, but I resisted. For I knew that if they did, I wouldn't be able to open them again.

My body continued to shake as I stared up at the door. Dean was taking too long. I could feel my lips turning blue. He needed to hurry. I had lost feeling to my left leg a long time ago.

A part of me wondered if Dean would make it in time. Even if he did, I didn't see how he could get me out. As with my feeling, my hopes of escaping alive had worn out.

Taking one last evil gare at the door, I slowly began to close my eyelids. Barely speaking, I whispered vengfully, "You got what you wanted out of me...You won."

----

My head hurt. The bastard had got in a good hit before I'd pinned her down on the living room floor.

It all happened so fast. With unkown confidence I marched into the living room with Anna trailing behind me. Michelle turned and faced me. Her eyes were pitch black and she was wearing an evil grin. She started to move towards me, and I, too, walked forward. She threw a punch, and almost made contact with my eye, but I managed to duck, and once regaining my stablilty, pushed the leather Bible in its face.

While the creature let out a piercing scream, Anna came up from behind and handed me two belts she had found in one of the closets. Quickly I began to hit it. But it wasn't easy. Screaming at Anna to get the water I attempted to remain strong, but the day was pressing on me and I was becoming tired.

Spraying the liquid on its chest gave me just enough time to tigh its arms behind its back. Then its feet.

Pushing it to the floor, I was surprised I'd been able to get that far. The creature was much stronger than I, and I was so tired.

Anna saw my exasperated look and took over. She pulled out the cross again, told me to hold it above its forehead, and continue pouring the water. As I did this, the girl opened the Bible and I heard her begin to mumble.

The words were so soft spoken I couldn't understand what she was saying, but whatever it was, the demon hated it. Pulling with all its might, I put the water down and held the beast's shoulder's, just in case. Forgetting I had the cross in my hand, I watched in slight horror as it burned the skin of the person it was possessing.

The entire thing lasted only five minutes, but to us, it felt as if it were an eternity. Anna had projected her voice across the room, saying such words that only a true believer could have come up. I watched in amazment. She had a confidence no one could match. Never once did she falter. Near the end, it was obvious she was using more than just words in a book. She was using her heart. She was letting all the pain that demon had brought upon her and the ones she loved speak for her. The look in her eyes showed she needed to do that, to finally put to rest what had kept her in such pain for too long.

When she spat, "Go back to hell!" I finally learned why Dad had done what he did all those years. Sure, I had been told the reasons, but a part of me never really got it. But watching Anna kill her loved one's murderer, explained it all. Dad wouldn't be at peace until he killed Mom's killer. He needed to know he'd done her justice.

And Sam felt the same way. Suddenly I felt like the outsider. Dad and Sam had a reason to hunt. The creature had killed the love of their lives. And although it was my mother, I still felt like I didn't belong. I tried to reason with why I was there.

But looking at Anna once again, I knew the answer. It was to protect them. They were wrapped in the cases so emotionally, that it affected their hunting sometimes. Me, I stayed in the mindframe. I kept them from getting themselves killed. And somehow, I knew that was what I was meant to do. To be the protector.

And at that moment, I wasn't protecting Sam. I'd let him get hurt. I'd managed to get him to catch of glimpse of death once more, just like the night in the woods with the wherewolves.

From beside me I heard Anna sigh. The job was done. Anna had done it. The demon was back in hell, where it belonged.

"Okay, on to Sam," she breathed, standing up.

I followed suit. "Anna, that was awesome. You were amazing."

She smiled. "Can we hurry it up? I wanna be back here when Michelle wakes up."

Nodding, I looked around. The rope would probably be in a shed somewhere. Stepping over the unconcsious girl, I walked out the back door and into the bright afternoon.

While we searched for the rope in the fairly large shed, I asked some things that were on my mind.

"Hey Anna, how'd you know about that place? Where Sam is."

The teenager halted for a barely a second. "The Franklin's were Michelle's grandparents. She used to live with them, her parents died in a car crash when she was three. When they passed on she moved down the street to her aunt's place."

"So, you guys just, stumbled across it one day?" I was being nosy, I knew, but the curiousity was overwhelming me.

"Not exactly."

I was rushing. The rope was in there, I knew it. "What do you mean?"

"The Franklins were...different. The used to hunt. Mr. Franklin, started off normally. He'd go out in the woods, kill something, bring it home and do all that other stuff. But then, he became alittle crazier. His wife had found that door while cleaning one day, they assumed it used to be used to hide people in during World War II. Well, as time progressed, Mr. Franklin started throwing his kill down in there. And not just little animals. Big things like deer. He even threw stray dogs in there. There used to be a ladder attached, I don't know what happened to it. But he had built in a camera on one of the walls and connected it to another room."

"You mean?"

"Yeah, he watched to creatures suffer to death. He installed an air conditioning unit to blow right in there, so they usually froze to death."

I put a hand over my mouth, disgusted.

"One day while Michelle, Jenna, and I were playing hide and seek, Michelle went and hid under that bed, and we discovered it. But Mr. Franklin made us promise never to tell anyone. And," Anna shivered. "He was such a scary man, we had no other choice."

As I listened to Anna's story, my heart rate increased. I wondered if the a.c. unit was still working. If so, Sam was surely freezing.

Reaching my hand on one of the top shelves I found a miracle. Pulling it out I discovered a long, thick rope. The kind used to hang up tire swings from a sturdy tree.

"Do you think that's all we need?" Anna asked, standing beside me.

I didn't want to waste any more time. While I was walking out the door, I peaked over my shoulder and remembered Anna mentioning a ladder. If Sam had gotten sicker, I would have to carry him out.

"Grab that ladder in the corner," I answered, storming back out into the daylight and towards the house, daring something else to try and stop me.

----

**A/N: Almost finished! I already havethe next chapter wrote, but I figured it was too long to add on to this. Besides, so much occured in this one. And sorry to anyone who I promised that this story wouldn't be more than 15 chapters, it took a different direction and I felt like it was the better way to take. Hope you guys enjoyed, please R&R!**


	17. Chapter 17

It was a beautiful day. I imagined the local park was full of kids. The little girls swinging while watching the boys play football, the parents off on a bench, talking. It was a day most families wished for, but rarely got.

But, for me, it was one of the worst days of my life. I had hardly noticed my chest hurting from the still-apparent bruises. All I was concerned about what rescueing Sam.

I pushed the bed back, hearing Anna walk into the room behind me. Faintly, I heard her breathing. It had been a long day for her. And carrying the ladder all the way to the bedroom probably didn't help her any.

Seeing the door, closed and secure, gave me the short urge to hit it. To punch it as hard as I could. Upon pulling it off, I turned on my flashlight and beamed the light downwads.

My heart stopped. I couldn't breathe. It felt as if someone had stabbed my heart. I knew I looked like an idiot, stooping over the hole, mouth agape, but what I saw terrified me.

Sam was lying motionless in the middle of the floor, his long legs curled up to his chest. I couldn't make out if his body was moving up and down, which scared me.

Once more my mind raced back to when the two of us were teenagers. We were back in Kansas, I was eighteen and Dad had decided to keep us at home while he went after a group of vampires.

It was the night before Sam's fifteenth birthday. He'd convinced me to let him go hang out with a group of friends. At first I'd resisted, the selfish part of me wanted him to be home with me, but I let him go anyways, with the promise that he'd be back early.

Later that night, while I was watching a FRIENDS re-run, the phone went off. I picked it up and heard Sam's voice, he sounded happy. Like he was truely doing what he enjoyed; having a life.

He had asked if he could stay out longer. Said that him and some of his friends had found a really cool place by one their houses and wanted to check it out.

The Dad had come out in me. Any good, normal older brother would have let him go. Let him have some fun. But I was jealous. Sam had friends, and I had no one. So I did the only thing I knew. I refused. Told him he was already past his curfew, and I would threaten to tell Dad if he didn't leave immediatly.

Once he got home we had a huge arguement, one of our worst. The boy's fierce eyes seared into me, and that teenage temper came out. Even when he was a kid, he was a genius, knowing exactly what to say and when to.

Although he was pissed, I thought I did the right thing. Later that night I heard on the news that the group he was with were in a car crash, killing two of them. The brother instincts had come in handy.

Sam had apologized a few days later, assuring me that he would listen to my advice more often. And then he said something that broke my heart to that day.

"Dean," I looked up from the magazine I was breezing through. "I don't think you'll have to worry about me hanging out with too many people anymore."

"Why's that?"

"Because...it seems like fate's working against me. I was born into this family, and I'm beginning to think I'm cursed."

I watched Sammy, waiting.

"Everyone always gets hurt when I'm around. Not you and Dad, but others. People who can't protect themselves. And I don't wanna be a murderer anymore."

I had assured Sam that he was wrong, but then he stopped me by continueing.

"I think, Dean. That it won't stop until I'm finished. I think it's gonna knock off everyone else until it kills me...and sometimes, I hope it'll happen soon, before it can reach you."

Staring at the twenty three year old Sam brought those words home. All his life, my little brother had been afraid he'd been responsible. And when Jess died, I knew the guilt had intensified. I just prayed with all my heart that he hadn't given in. Hadn't already let that creature beat him at his own game.

Finally the dams broke. All the emotion I'd held since the fight with Sam broke loose. Seeing my only friend, the person I'd protected all my life, lie dying so far away from me, caused hot liquid to form in my eyes. Something I hadn't felt in many years.

I didn't hear or feel Anna as she placed her soft hand on my shoulder. This time I didn't shrug it off.

Slowly, tears began to fall. They rolled down my cheeks until the reached my jaw, where they fell, dropping into the black hole underneath me. I was sure a few had landed on Sammy, but knew he couldn't feel them.

All the years of trying to protect Sam from the dangers of the world had failed. I had failed. One single day had changed the course of my life.

Earlier, I had called myself the protector, but really, I wasn't one at all. If I was, I wouldn't have been sitting in that open square, crying, my eyes seeing defeat.

-----

I was so close. Jessica was so near. The sky was clear blue, with only a few puffy clouds, and trees were all around me. It was the place I had dreamed of so many times.

And I was finally there. Jess was holding out her hand. The white dress she was wearing fluttered in the occasional breeze. Her smile was an invitation.

She didn't say anything. Just stood there. The road seperating us was long, but I didn't mind. I began the treck.

But with every footstep I made, Jess made one also. Farther away. She was moving away.

No, I couldn't loose her a second time. I was finally there. Finally able to be with her again.

As I was walking, my footsteps soundless, she turned the blue eyes I'd come to love so much to me. Then frowned.

I stopped. Looking down I saw my body was alright. There were no scratches on my arms and my left leg felt fine.

"Not yet, Sam," she said, her voice strong and loud. I squinted, unsure if what I'd heard was right.

"No, baby. I want to be with you...please don't leave me again."

Jess's face softened. "You're not done, Sam. Dean still needs you. So does your Dad. You can't leave them yet."

I wanted to cry again. She was refusing me.

Before I could respond, she had left. Gone like the warm wheather that hung in the air. I was back in the freezing. Back in the dark.

Something touched my leg and I jumped. Soon the cold concrete was gone, replaced with the body of someone warm and strong.

I still was unable to open my eyes, afraid to let the reality sink in that I wasn't in that warm place anymore, with Jess. I was back in my prison.

There was an odd noise. The sound of something hitting metal forced me to come to my senses. I still felt like I was being carried. And from around me I heard unfamilar sounds, like that of people.

Another bump. My leg had hit the wall. But that wasn't possible, I hadn't moved. Then a grunt from a few inches away. Then another, this time it was strained.

Warmth was beginning to come back to me. It wasn't dark any longer. Light was shining through my eyes. I wished so bad that I could open them. Instead I waited patiently for it to all be over.

-----

"Son of a bitch, Sam, your heavy," I grumbled. After the last of my tears had spilt and I threatened Anna to strangle her if she ever told Sam, I grabbed the ladder.Fortunatly, it was one of those metal ones that extended up to twelve feet. Unfortunatly, the cell looked about sixteen feet deep.

I set the leadder next to the hole and grabbed the rope. Tying one end to the bedpost, I threw the other end into the black abiss.

"Can you hold on to this?" I asked Anna, handing her part of the rope.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, pushing her curls out of her face and staring at me, worried.

"You'll see."

Once I was positive the rope was secure, I threw my left leg into the hole, following it with the other.

Hands held deathly tight to the rope, I began the descent to Sam. Most people would have been afraid, but I wasn't like them. Instead of concentrating on how far the drop would've been if I fell, I kept Sam's face in mind. Knowing that that was the only way.

I reached the bottom faster than expected, jumping the last two feet, my boots sending echoing sounds throughout the room.

"Now what?" Anna's head popped through the hole.

"I want you to drop the ladder down."

"I can't! What if it falls and hits you!"

I sighed. "I trust you. You're a strong girl, just lower it down as far as it will go and then let go. I'll make sure it won't hit me."

The girl was still skeptical.

"Anna," I pleaded. "Sam is dying. We need to get him out. You need to work with me."

At the sound of Sam's name, the teenager agreed. I was worried she'd loose her balance and drop the thing sooner than she had to, but Anna kept a hold on the metal, allowing me to not have to move too far out of the way.

I still hadn't looked at Sam. I was too afraid. I knew that if I took a glance at him I'd forget about escaping and concentrate on his health. Right then I had to make sure everything was in order.

The ladder met me with a clash. But it met me. With some difficulty in the darkness, I set it up and extended it all the way. I knew carrying Sam up it was gonna be a bitch.

Finally, I turned and saw my little brother. He was worse up close. I had to hold my mouth to keep the previous day's sandwich down. His left leg was at an odd angle and the blood had failed to completly stop pouring.

"Oh, Sammy, what'd you get yourself into?" Moaning, my eyes furrowed as I went on with the inspection. His temple was gashed andmost of his face was covered in dried blood.

A voice from above me forced me to look away. "Hurry, Dean, we need to get him out of there."

I sighed. Reaching under Sam's thighs and neck, I attempted to lift him.

Then had to set him back down again. He wasn't six anymore. I couldn't just lift him up and be on my way. He was a full gown man who had built up strong muscles throughout his life.

His head moved forward. I thought for a moment he'd wake up, but no luck. Instead I got a better look at his pale face and lifeless lips. Both scared the shit out of me.

Determined, I tried again. This time I was able to keep him up, boosting him with my knee. Glowering at the ladder, my feet began to climb.

"Oh my God," Anna cried. She had pulled Sam out of the hole, taking his limb body from my exhausted hands. I had reached as far as the ladder would go, with four feet still ahead of me, when Anna climbed over, rope tighed around her waist.

She somewhat propelled down to me, slinging Sam's right arm around her shoulder and throwing his leg around her own.

"Give me a push up," she had demanded, trying to hold on to Sam and the rope.

I cupped her foot in my hand, sure I would fall backwards from their weight, and pushed with all my willpower. Her right foot found a crack in the cement and she used for leverage. She grabbed onto the edge with just her fingers and pulled with all her might. I could see every muscle in her body straining. Although four feet wasn't very high, lifting yourself and a man vertically up it made it quite a challenge.

Grasping the end of the rope, my hands began pulling. I kicked off from the ladder clasped the binding material. Using my feet and hands I was able to reach Anna quickly. Pushing Sam's body with one arm, my other held onto the rope for dear life.

He didn't move far. I had to change my approach. Seeing Anna struggle to stay up, I decided she would be the better one to push out. So I grabbed her free foot and pushed up.

Her elbow reached over the edge. She was still holding Sam. Panting, I pushed harder, but switching to Sam instead. Meanwhile, my feet were slowly crawling up the rope, getting closer to the two.

When I reached Sam's shins, I gave one final jab at the two before they both fell over onto the carpet. My energy was drained. I wondered for a moment if I'd have the strength to pull myself out.

But the adreniline kicked in once more and I grabbed the edge, pulling my body up and out of that form of hell for the first and final time.

-----

"You go, I'm staying here with Michelle," Anna mouthed to me. We had made our way to the living room, Sam in my arms once again. I'd spent only a moment searching for my car keys, until I noticed Sam's clenched hand. Opening them, I saw the end had peirced his skin. He had to have been holding them pretty damn tight.

I'd thrown my phone to Anna, ordering her to call an ambulance, but when they said that all their vehicles were gone and it would take awhile, I gave up and knew he'd get to the hospital faster if I drove.

"Are you sure?" I asked briefly. I was standing by the door, ready to walk out.

"The ambulance will be here soon. Besides, I've done enough, it's your turn. Just call me when you're all done."

"Yeah, of course." I wasted no more time. Time was ticking by and the hospital was still minutes away. Meanwhile, in my arms, Sam's quiet breathing had slowed down another notch.

----

Beep Beep Beep.

"What was that noise?" I opened my eyes. Next to me was a heart moniter. Looking around, it clicked in my mind where I was.

I was lying in a stiff bed, wearing nothing but a blue-dotted gown. There were tubes going in and out of me at different areas on my body. To the left of me was a small round table. Sniffing, I caught the faint whiff of the flowers that were sitting on it. Next to the bouqet, was a card, opened and standing.

From somewhere in the hall I heard two people talking. Someone rushed past them, yelling orders.

I was in a hospital. The only sign of the concrete that had surrounded me where the images in my head. Dean had done it again. Just as he always had. He had saved me.

I remembered the place with Jessica. I remembered how I'd almost given up. Almost let the others win.

Panicking, I searched the room. My older brother was nowhere to be found. I tried to sit up, my I found I couldn't move my left arm. It was weighted down.

Disgusted, I saw that not only was my arm wrapped in a thick white cast, so was my leg. My suspicion of it being broke was correct.

Just then, the door to the outside opened and I saw Dean walk through, his beloved coffee in one hand. When he saw me awake, his face broke into a large grin.

"Hey, sleepyhead, did you finally decide to wake up?"

There was the humor I'd grown used to. "How long have I been out?"

Dean eased into the wooden chair by the table, setting down his cup and crossing his hands. "'Bout three days now."

My eyebrows shot up. "Three! God, I must have been a sight."

"Oh you were. But the nurses just loved you. They thought you were the cutest thing since Bambi. Which was good for me, I got to play the mourning brother in need of some comfort." His grin spread.

Mine, though, had faded. I knew the time for small talk would be over soon and we'd have to get down to business.

"...So while you were getting your sponge bath, I was getting one of my own," Dean babbled on. I could tell he was afraid to stop rambling, for he knew what was coming.

Eventually, though, his words drained off and he stared at me, silent.

"Dean," I was looking him straight in the eyes. "I learned some stuff while down in that room."

"Like what?" From his lowered eyes I could see that Dean didn't expect this to be how I'd start the conversation off.

"I learned that there's some things Stanford can't teach you. It never taught me to keep my temper to myself...I shouldn't have lashed out on you, and I sure as hell shouldn't have read your journal. You had every right to punch me that day."

"No, I didn't, Sammy. I should've handled it like a man. And I was wrong to say that you always act better than me. I get that Jess is dead and youre hurt by it. I guess being coopedup in a car with you for six months got to me."

"And I get it. You wanna keep a part of your life private. And I can agree. There are things I wouldn't want you to know."

"It's alright," Dean stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a patient's sister waiting for my shoulder to cry unto."

"Dean!" I called him back. I knew he hated talks like those, but I wasn't finished yet. After he impatiently turned back around, I went on. "Thanks. You know, for everything. I probably woulda died in that place if it weren't for you." A pause. "I love you, man."

"Love you too, bitch. And c'mon, did you honestly think I was gonna let you die? I need someonewith meto keep my eyes sharp."

Smiling inwardly, I knew there were another million things we still had to discuss, but it was Dean I was talking with, and he could only take so much chick flick action in one day. Alone in my room again, my eyes wondered over to the window. The sky was clear blue. An overfed pigeon flew by, a worm in its mouth.

Peace. My heart had finally managed to taste victory. Dean wasn't fighting with me anymore. I was safe, ready to take life's challenges again. My eyelids lowered once more; the talk with Dean had worn me out. I was still a long way away from going back to hunting. Just as I was managing to drift off again, a yell from the room next to me awoke me. I could hear Dean's voice yelling back. A minute later he stormed back into my room, hair ruffled and cheeks flushed.

"I'll tell ya. Some people just don't appreciate other's caring support. Melanie should learn a thing or two from Anna."

My mouth opened and I let out a short laugh. I should've guessed. Dean would hop on any oppurtunity to swoon a girl, even if it was Anna's sister.

From my brother's expression I knew things had gone back to normal between us. The tension we'd shown after the asylum and through the past days was fading. Of course it would take awhile for it all to pass, but it comforted me to know we were back on the road to recovery. Sure, it took me almost dying to re-evaluate both our situations, but it was really worth it.

Thinking over the events, I wondered if the outcome would have been the same if Dean was the one captured. I doubted it. Dean was always saving my ass. I counted on him for it. And I knew in my heart that he enjoyed protecting me from all the dangers we encountered.

"Jess was right," I said to myself. Someday that tables would turn, and I would be the one saving Dean, and I had to be strong. I had to make sure we found Dad and let us all kill the bastard that destroyed our lives so horribly.

I slipped back into sleep, allowing Dean's rant to float through my head. Knowing I'd have to leave the safety of the hospital soon, and be back on the road, I let my dreams take over. Ones where Jessica was still alive and well. Ones where Dean and Dad were with us, getting to know and love Jessica. Ones where I didn't have strange premonitions about things that were occuring, and I was just a normal guy, surrounded by the ones I loved most.

Those blessed dreams carried me through the day and on into the night, letting me momentarily forget the horrors that were brought upon me.

**A/N: FINISHED! It's complete. Now thats its over you must tell me how you really felt about it. This was my first fanfiction, and I discovered that the last chapter is the absolute worst to write. I had the most horrible case of writer's block, and felt as if this chapter wasn't well written at all. So don't throw things at me, I know its not my best. And I might go back and change it a bit, but for right now this will have to do. Thanks so much for everyone who reviewed, you kept me going even when I didn't feel like writing, and I'm glad you did. Please R&R one last time to tell me if I should even attempt another Supernatural fanfic! **


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